


Tender Bonds

by BloodOfMyLove



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, Game: Resident Evil CODE: Veronica, Gen, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodOfMyLove/pseuds/BloodOfMyLove
Summary: Claire doesn't trust the government's intentions for Sherry and smuggles her out of the hospital. Now on the run from the government and still needing to find Chris, Claire feels lost. Then, the girls runs into Chris' old captain who promises a solution to all their problems. Wesker's help seems too good to be true and she suspects that she hasn't been told the whole story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A multi chapter story that I'm posting from my FF account. So I'm fairly new in the RE fandom, though I've known about the games for years. I feel like things are really slow within the fandom right now, but I thought I'd try my hand at a fanfiction story anyway. This story will most likely end up being multiple parts, but this part will go till the end of Code Veronica. With new events and my own twists. I would appreciate all constructive criticism so I can improve my writing. Also, I've done research for my story, but some areas I had to take some creative liberties so if their are any glaring errors please let me know
> 
> Disclaimer: I own neither the Resident Evil characters or universe their in. All belong to Capcom.

The sound of gravel crunching underfoot interrupted the otherwise quiet night. Claire shivered as the cool breeze cut through her thin, black shirt and raised goosebumps along her bare legs. Nights in the mountainous region were known to be cold and, after her adrenaline had worn off, the crisp air felt colder than normal. Folding her arms across her chest, she stared down the empty road ahead. Such peaceful scenery seemed odd after the chaos in the city.

They had traveled for a couple hours now and had seen no sign of civilization, not even the glow of a car's headlights in the distance. She had not realized before how isolated Raccoon City was from others. Part of her wondered if Umbrella had planned it that way from the beginning.

Her legs ached as she tried to keep the brisk pace of her companion. She glanced warily at Leon who marched along silently on the gravel road. He had tucked his arms under Sherry's legs as she slept on his back. The same broody expression inhabited his face since they'd escaped the City. He had briefly told her about Ada, another woman he'd encountered in the city. Claire could tell he was taking the other woman's death hard, but she had no words that could help ease his pain. Bonds between people grew easily when they faced life or death situations together; she had discovered that herself with Sherry.

"What do you think will happen to Sherry now?" she asked.

Her eyes drifted to the young girl on his back. Sherry's face appeared peaceful as she slept with one cheek pressed into Leon's shoulder. His steps jostled her body, but did nothing to disturb her slumber. The redhead felt glad that the girl could sleep, even if it was only from sheer exhaustion. She worried how the nightmarish events would affect Sherry's mental state. Claire could not deny the girl's resilience. She'd not only faced a horde of monsters, which had included her father, but had also lost her mother. The young woman's heart ached for Sherry's situation, which reminded her of the deaths of her own mother four years earlier. At least, she'd had Chris after he had returned from active duty in the Air Force. Sherry had no one.

Leon kept his eyes trained forward as he answered her question. "I imagine she'll go into foster care if there are no living relatives."

Claire's stomach turned sour at the thought of Sherry becoming a ward of the state. When her mother had died, she had spent months in a foster home while Chris finished his deployment overseas. His top priority mission had prevented him from returning home right away. Her memories while there had been less than pleasant. She could not bear the thought of Sherry experiencing the same thing. The redhead scoured her mind for another solution.

"Does she have to go into foster care?" Claire questioned.

The sound of clothes rustling drew her attention as Leon shifted Sherry's weight to a more comfortable position. His tired blue eyes glanced up and caught her gaze.

"Where else would she go?" Leon asked. Something in her expression must of given away her thoughts, for he cut her off before she could respond. "Whoa, You aren't really thinking of taking her in yourself, are you?"

By this point the man had stopped walking and turned so he fully faced her. Claire paused in front of him, scowling at his incredulous tone.

"Why not? We've gone through a lot together and she's comfortable with me. Why make her live with complete strangers."

Leon blew out a breathe in disbelief. "Well first off Claire, your a nineteen year old college student. Can you even afford to properly care for a kid?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but was silenced by a stern look from the young man. "Also, what about your brother? I thought you planned to look for him in Europe?"

Closing her mouth, she drew in a deep breath as she thought of her brother. Chris had left without even telling Claire. In his diary, she'd read that he wanted to keep her out of the trouble with Umbrella. Ironically, leaving her in the dark had only pushed her into the middle of Umbrella's schemes. She needed to find him, to make sure he was still alive and then, she would kill him herself for worrying her so badly. Though after everything Claire had endured with Sherry, she hated to just leave the little girl in the hands of government workers. Her mind felt torn between her brother and the responsibility she now felt for Sherry.

Running her hand anxiously through her bangs, she glanced back up at Leon. "What if I take her with me?"

Leon let out a surprised chuckle. "I Know you're good with kids, but I didn't realize you wanted one so badly." He gave her a half smile.

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a pointed look so he would take her suggestion seriously. She knew not all foster families would treat their wards cruelly, but it'd only take one wrong placement to further traumatize the girl. Claire's mind drifted back to the defiant fifteen year old girl, nursing a bloody lip and bruised ribs. Fire in her eyes as she refused to cower under her foster parent's temper. The other foster child's begging echoed in her head from behind her. He pleaded for her to just listen to the man, but Claire had never bowed to bullies.

Leon's smile vanished as he noticed her troubled expression while lost in her thoughts. Moving to her side, he nudged her with his elbow while awkwardly trying to keep Sherry balanced on his back.

"Hey," he said softly. "Why are you really so concerned about Sherry staying out of foster care?"

Returning to reality, her bright blue eyes focused back on Leon. "I've, well I-" she scrapped the toe of her boot across the ground. "Let's just say I've had a bad experience with the system and I want to save her from going through that."

Nodding slightly, he suddenly understood why she'd been so worried. Though, he couldn't agree with her jaded idea that foster care was a worst case senario. The government had programs that were better equipped than Claire to deal with the young girl's needs. He just needed to get the redheaded woman to realize that without triggering her temper. They had met recently, but he could already tell the woman had a stubborn streak when she set her mind to something.

"Claire, don't forget we don't know what damage the G-virus might have inflicted on her body. We need to make sure she gets properly checked out and I don't think dragging her across the world with you would be good for her health."

The young woman's face fell as she processed his reasoning. Claire had to admit that that his argument made sense, no one could predict what she would find in Europe. Leon tried to give her a reassuring smile as he continued.

"I'll make sure she's well taken care of, but right now you should really be concerned about finding your brother. I think as soon as we reach town you should leave."

Her eyes widened in surprise, she had not thought he would want to separate so soon. With what they had discovered in Raccoon City, she realized the need for urgency. Umbrella was trying desperately to cover their tracks and only her, Leon and Chris' team seemed to know the truth. They needed to expose them before more lives were lost, but she had thought she would have more time with Sherry.

Sherry's worried voice cut through their conversation. "Claire you're not really planning to leave are you?"

The pair both looked over at the blonde girl. They had not realized their talking had roused her. Leon kneeled down when she tried to climb off his back. Sherry darted over to Claire and latched on to her sleeve, her eyes searched the older girl's face for an answer. The girl's face was scrunched with worry and Claire knew then that she couldn't leave her, not yet.

Sending a pointed look to Leon, she pulled Sherry into a hug before answering. "No, I'm not leaving. I'll stay beside you until your safe. I promise."

Sherry responded with a grateful smile.

Leon recognized the stubborn look in her eyes and stood back up with a sigh. "Well since you're so determined, I won't try to change your mind, but we should really get moving again."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets before resuming his walk up the road. The two girls shared a smile before grasping hands and following behind him. Claire sent a small prayer that her brother stayed safe while she dealt with Sherry's situation. A small part of her hoped that she was making the right decision about delaying her trip to Europe. Though, she found Sherry's tight grip on her hand a good indicator that the blonde girl still needed her.

* * *

They arrived on the outskirts of town long after the sun had risen. By now, they moved almost listlessly as exhaustion weighed them down. It did not take long for the citizens to notice their presence and before they had to find one themselves, a police cruiser pulled up beside them. Perhaps it was because of the blood and dirt on their clothes or the haunted look in their eyes, but as the officer rolled down her window, she already had her radio out, calling for assistance.

Things blurred together at that point as they were picked up and ushered to the hospital. Umbrella's iconic logo greeted them at the entrance, a taunting reminder of what they had discovered. Officers and Nurses bombarded them with questions that all had one answer, Raccoon City. An officer tried to separate the trio for questioning, but Sherry panicked when they pulled her from Claire's side. Eventually a doctor intervened as the young girl almost became hysterical. The man held his ground as he firmly told the police officer that their health came first. Backing down, the officer finally let a nurse take the girls to an exam room. Leon was escorted to a separate room.

Left alone to finally catch their breath, Claire and Sherry distracted themselves with anything, but the reality of their situation. In the back of her mind, the redhead began to ponder what Umbrella would do about Raccoon City.

_They couldn't cover up a whole undead city...could they?_

Once their conversation began to dwindle, a middle-aged, dark haired, man entered with a pleasant smile.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Hesson. I'm here to give you lovely ladies a check up to make sure everything's alright after the ordeal you've been through," he said as he pulled out his clipboard.

Filling out their basic information, he then moved to the exam bed and pulled out the table extension. After laying out his supplies, he pulled on blue gloves and gestured for one of the girls to take the bed. Noticing Sherry's hesitation, Claire volunteered to go first. Hopping on the table, she offered her best smile as she took notice of the doctor's looks, handsome in a rugged way.

"Alright Doc, do your worst."

He chuckled as he moved close with the otoscope to check her eyes and ears. "It's just a routine check up, make sure your healthy."

_'And not infected_ ,' Claire thought sardonically.

They went through the routine like any other check-up, taking her blood pressure and heartbeat next. Dr. Hesson asked Claire rather or not she'd had a fever in the last 48 hours, felt nauseous or obtained any injuries. Answering no to all, she found herself talking amicably with the man as he finished the physical. Next he pulled out a tourniquet and needles, which prompted a raised eyebrow from the redhead. The doctor said it was merely procedure, but she found that hard to believe. Holding out her arm, Claire had to look away as she felt the pinch of the needle entering. A handful of seconds later, she felt the needle sliding back out. She looked over as capped the vacutainer, her dark red blood visible inside. Setting the vial aside, he waved Sherry over.

Sherry reluctantly took Claire's place on the table and he started the same procedure with her. The doctor, having noticed her nervousness, cracked some jokes to ease the girl's nerves. Everything seemed to be going fine as he checked her vitals. Then, Dr. Hesson asked her to roll up her sleeves while he prepped new needles for her blood work. Listening to his order, the young girl glanced nervously at Claire as she exposed her forearm. Understanding her unease, the redhead came to her side and gripped her other hand. Dread twisted her gut as Claire thought of the virus Sherry had been infected with. She was not sure if she should mention it to the doctor, after all they had administered the antidote.

Dr. Hesson tied the tourniquet on the young girl's arm and asked her to make a fist. She obeyed and he wiped a spot clean. Sherry's grip tightened on her hand as he slid the needle in her arm. Ever so slowly, her blood flowed out. Claire knew something was wrong when the doctor's constant smile morphed into a frown. Glancing at the blood from Sherry's arm, her stomach dropped. The girl's blood had dark, almost black, spots splattered amongst the red, like someone had sprinkled dirt in her veins.

"Why is her blood like that?" Claire's voice came out as a harsh whisper.

"I'm not real sure." His dark brown eyes met hers as he gave her a tight lipped smile. "But after some tests I'm sure we'll find out."

Sherry stared at the floor as the doctor took another vial of blood. After capping and labeling the vials, Dr. Hesson excused himself and left, leaving a sense of urgency in his wake. The redhead could not understand what she had just witnessed. Sherry's blood had looked wrong.

_She could not be infected...right?_

Claire's eyes glanced at the girls deflated form. She had not noticed any strange symptoms, Sherry had behaved normally after the antidote.

_So what was in her blood?_

"A-am I..." Sherry's voice sounded small and broken as she pulled the other woman from her thoughts. "Am I still infected?"

Not knowing how to answer, Claire simply sat next to the blonde girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Sherry's body erupted in small tremors, but she didn't make a sound. The two held on to each other in silence, neither attempting to move away. It was the same position Leon found them in when he burst into the room. A nurse yelled behind him that he wasn't allowed in there.

"I just overheard a doctor down the hall." His voice was ragged from running. "He was saying they'd found a strange virus in Sherry's blood." His eyes met Claire's over the girl's head. Sherry's grip on her tightened until her knuckles went white.

Swallowing, since her mouth suddenly felt dry, the redhead said what they were all thinking. "The G-virus must still be in her blood."

Neither said anything as Sherry let out a choked sob, unable to hold it in any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

They sat in silence after Sherry had stifled her cries. Each of them lost in their own thoughts. Claire had too many questions without answers. The G-virus antidote, DEVIL, should have cured Sherry. Though maybe it had only destroyed the embryo and not the virus itself. They would not know for sure until the doctor returned.

Slowly, an hour past as they waited. Suddenly, the door opened. In stepped a woman dressed in military gear with her fair hair pulled back in a tight bun. Skipping the pleasantries, she simply addressed the only man in the room.

"Leon Kennedy, you are to come with me." Her voice was clipped and professional.

He eyed her warily as he asked, "what do you need from me?"

"My commanding officer has questions for you." A tinge of annoyance had entered the woman's voice. "About Raccoon City."

Confusion clouded Claire's face. "Why's the military involved?"

The woman's hard gaze turned to her with an expression that seemed to say 'why do you think.' Choosing not to answer the redhead's question, she turned back to Leon. "Let's go."

After he stood to follow, the woman left as quickly as she had entered. Stopping in the doorway, the man turned. His hair fell into his eyes as he looked back at Claire.

"I'll go get some answers, just keep an eye on her, okay?" He tilted his head to Sherry.

The redhead nodded, but the other girl scowled at him.

"I don't need a babysitter."

Saying nothing, Leon simply gave her a long look, confused by her uncharacteristic outburst. Then, he disappeared out the doorway and the door shut softly behind him. Claire turned to Sherry with a playful smile and rustled her hair.

"Hey, I know you're a tough girl, but you didn't have to get mad at him. He's only worried about you."

The girl frowned as she pushed the other woman's hand off her head.

"I might still be infected, but I'm not going to break."

The brave front Sherry tried to show now was a far cry from the shaken girl from earlier. Referencing her psychology class, Claire wondered if this was a coping mechanism. A way to deal with all they had suffered through. The girl fidgeted with the zipper of her pink vest, the one Claire had given her. Her gaze focused anywhere, but on the redhead.

"I'll be alright you know," she said. "So you can go."

Feeling puzzled, the redhead raised an eyebrow at her. "Go? I'm not going anywhere, not till your healthy."

Finally the girl made eye contact with Claire. "Well I don't even want you here. Your hovering is annoying, so just leave!" Sherry tried to sound indignant, but her voice came out too shrill.

Her words hit Claire like a punch to the gut and fueled the redhead's temper. The redhead knew how it felt to be uncertain of the future and wanted the girl to know she wasn't alone. The whole situation probably scared the hell out of Sherry. Claire's actions were meant to be supportive, so why did the girl want to reject her?

"I'm annoying!" Claire steadily rose. "I've done nothing bu-"

Startled, Claire's voice trailed off as her anger deflated. Unshed tears coated Sherry's eyes as the girl wrapped her arms around herself. Taking a deep breath, the woman rubbed her hand over her face. The stress was affecting everyone. She needed to think calmly, a memory of her mother's calm, patient voice, used for handling her own outbursts as a child, came to mind.

Imitating her mother's softer tone, Claire asked, "Sherry, why are you acting like this?"

Sniffling, Sherry looked down at her feet without replying. An awkward silence stretched between them and Claire prayed for the patience to wait her out. Her temper would not help in this situation.

Finally, Sherry spoke, almost too soft to hear. "I just don't want to be a burden on you guys."

The redhead's heart ached, she had not realized the girl felt like a burden. Sherry had grown up with parents who's first priority was their scientific research. She had learned quickly that staying out of the way was best. Claire needed Sherry to understand that she would be there for her.

Her voice was tender as she spoke. "Sherry your not a burden to me."

"But you need to find your brother, that's why you were in Raccoon City to begin with." Sherry finally looked up from the floor, eyes shining with a maturity beyond her years. After the horror she had gone through, it was not surprising.

"I heard you and Leon earlier. You need to find your brother so you can help stop Umbrella."

Claire sucked in a sharp breath. So that's what had been eating the girl up. She spoke slowly as she carefully worded her response.

"You're right I do need to find my brother," she agreed. "but, I also want to know that you'll be okay. So until then, I'm staying right here, rather you like it or not. We can figure the rest out later."

Sherry nodded and wiped her eyes, a mixture of defeat and relief on her face. Claire pulled her into a side hug and patted the girl's back. _Exhaustion must be making them emotional_. She thought as she recalled they hadn't had a chance to sleep yet. Pulling away from the blonde girl, Claire stood up and told Sherry to lie down. A nap would be good for the girl. The redhead leaned against the wall, prepared to wait until Leon returned.

Not long after, the door swung open, startling the two. Dr. Hesson entered the room with the woman from earlier. Claire startled at the sight of them, a million questions on the tip of her tongue. Sherry sat up from the bed as she focused intently on the doctor.

He gave them an awkward smile. "I'm sorry about rushing away earlier, but identifying the cause of her blood's discoloration was of utmost importance." He glanced down nervously before continuing. "Anyways, I've already discussed the specifics with Mr. Kennedy, who's acting as the girl's temporary guardian, but I wanted to let you know that Ms. Birkin is essentially healthy."

Relief flooded Claire as she smiled. "That's great!"

Sherry relaxed slightly with a faint smile of her own.

He quickly interjected their joy. "She's not completely in the clear though, further tests will have to be run to understand what exactly is going on in her blood."

Claire's smile faltered. "You just said she was fine, why do you need to run more tests."

The doctor grimaced and looked over at the woman beside him as she stepped forward. "If you'll follow me, you've been assigned a spare room for the night." Her voice left no room for arguments.

As the doctor turned to leave Claire called after him, but he hurried out the door. She couldn't wrap her head around what had just happened. Something about the whole situation was fishy. Turning to the woman, she tried to demand answers, but again she was stone-walled. Frustrated, Claire fell silent. The two girls reluctantly followed the woman out of the room, feeling helpless in the whole situation.

They moved down the sterile white halls, away from the main patient rooms. They came across an unmarked door on the edges of the Day-Stay unit. Stopping, the stern woman unlocked the room and gestured for them to enter. The room had the same white walls as the rest of the hospital and smelled faintly of antiseptic. Cabinets ran along the far wall and two cots sat in the middle of the room.

"It's not exactly a Hilton, but I suppose this will do," Claire said as she tried to give the other woman a friendly smile, anything to soften her up.

The woman did not smile back, only nodded and left.

 _'Who shoved a stick up her ass,'_ Claire thought as she threw herself down on one of the cots.

With nothing else to do, they decided to stop by the nurses' station to ask for food and grab a stack of magazines from the waiting rooms. Not long after they returned, Leon was escorted in with their food. The redhead resisted bombarding him with questions and instead dug into the food. They all ate silently, relishing the first decent meal since the city. Leon waited until Sherry was preoccupied with a magazine. Then, he lead Claire out into the hall, away from Sherry's ear shot.

Finally, he filled her in on what he had learned. Starting with how he had been interrogated by a military captain and a representative of the Defense of Security Operations (DSO), an agency of the government. They had questioned him about the events in Raccoon City. The men particularly focused on the G-virus and Umbrella's involvement. There was an awkward pause as Claire absorbed all this information. Tentatively, he told her of the deal he'd been given. Sherry's safety and Claire's release for Leon's employment with the government. Claire felt alarmed

"Sherry needs protecting?" she asked nervously.

Leon hesitated, knowing the woman would not like what he had to say next. " I mean, Sherry will be put under government care. They will guarantee her safety both from outside forces and from the virus in her blood."

"Outside forces?" Claire was starting to feel frustrated.

"Look Claire, I asked what exactly the doctor found in her blood." He paused, glancing up to look at Sherry through the door's window while lowering his voice. "We were right, its the G-virus-"

"We already knew that." Claire interrupted impatiently.

Leon ignored her as he continued. "But its not acting normally."

Claire frowned. "What do you mean?"

Claire had to concentrate to hear him as he leaned in closer. "In layman's terms, the virus is not attacking her body. It's assimilated with her cells. For groups like Umbrella this would be a major breakthrough!"

She did not know how to feel about this news. Elated, that Sherry wasn't in immediate danger, but also paranoid as she remembered the hospital was sponsored by Umbrella. Suddenly, she found herself glancing down the halls as if a spy was hiding in the shadows. Though in reality, they had probably been told the moment Sherry's blood was tested. Then, a realization struck her.

"Won't the government want to do the same thing?" she asked suspiciously.

He drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "It's not ideal, but at least they'll use it to help people."

Claire felt speechless. All of Sherry's options had the same outcome, spending her life having experiments done on her blood. If William Birkin wasn't already dead, she would have sent him to hell herself for bringing this on his own daughter. Leon placed his hand on her shoulder and his blue eyes held her gaze.

"I know you want her to have a normal life, but with the virus in her blood that's just not possible anymore."

"Leon, we could make it possible if we tried," she said.

Leon looked exhausted as he said, "look, I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is the best option for Sherry. So please, just trust me on this."

Claire stayed silent, not knowing what else to say. The man sighed.

"They're sending an agent over tomorrow to pick her up and they want my answer on the deal then," Leon firmly said. "I plan on saying yes."

He gave her a long look, then turned and went back in the room.

"Leon!" Claire shouted after him.

The man did not reappear and she was left feeling frustrated. After calming down, the redhead entered the room after him.

* * *

Leon's soft snores filled the room as Claire laid awake. Everything kept replaying in her mind. She wished her brother was here now to tell her what she should do. Growing up, she had resented his bossy attitude, but he always had her back. Even when no one else wanted to believe her, he had forced the system to investigate her foster home the moment Claire told him how the children were treated. Child services only revoked their foster care license, but when Chris came home, he had made sure the man regretted ever hitting her.

Yawning, Claire glanced down at the girl beside her. Right now, the twelve year old appeared so vulnerable. Curled against the her side, she clutched the fabric of Claire's vest like a lifeline. For some reason, the girl had decide to keep it on while she slept. The redhead knew in the morning, Sherry would put on a tough face and act like she wasn't scared. In a better world, she wouldn't have to pretend.

She wished she could trust the government's promise to Leon, but she couldn't bear the guilt if something happened to Sherry. He had said they would get visitations, but that was not a promise to not use her like a lab rat. The girl deserved to live like a normal child, not at the mercy of a virus she had not asked for. Claire's thoughts kept running in similar circles until she felt thoroughly agitated over the entire situation. Then, finally, she came to a decision.

Slowly moving her arm out from under Sherry, Claire slowly shifted until she sat up on the cot. The girl beside her did not even stir. Using the hall light from the window, she moved towards the row of cabinets along the far wall. Searching through the drawers, she found a crumbled pamphlet and a chewed on, stubby pencil. She smoothed the pamphlet out and composed a note to Leon across the bottom picture. Claire pressed down hard hoping it'd be readable. Quietly moving back to the cots, she left the note atop Leon's boots. She felt thankful for the stealth practice from sneaking out in high school. Claire then tip-toed back to her cot and shook Sherry's shoulder. The girl opened her eyes groggily and she blinked up at her.

"Claire what's go-"

The redhead's hand snapped out to cover her mouth while she kept her eyes trained on Leon. His snores had stopped. Sherry tensed under Claire's hand, but she did not dare move while watching the room's other occupant. Seconds passed in silence while she scrambled her mind for excuses. His sheets rustled as he switched positions, but Claire did not even dare breathe as she waited. Then finally, his breathing deepened and eventually evened out again. Relaxing, She removed her hand from Sherry's mouth, but gestured for the girl to stay quiet. The blonde girl made a face at her, but listened.

Grabbing their shoes, she gestured for Sherry to quietly get dressed and follow her. Creeping to the door, Claire eased it open wide enough to avoid the light hitting Leon's face. She motioned for Sherry to go out into the hall and, with one last repentant look at Leon, she followed. The two girls stood in the hall awkwardly for a second while Claire thought of how to phrase her plan. Sherry broke the silence first.

"Claire, why did we sneak out here?"

Ignoring the question, Claire felt abuzz with nervous energy as she propositioned Sherry. "You want to go on an adventure with me?"

"What?" Sherry asked as her face twisted in confusion.

The redhead's voice rose in excitement. "Let's get out of here. You can come with me to find my brother."

The young girl bit her lip nervously and fidgeted with Claire's vest again; a habit she had picked up shortly after receiving it.

Sherry's voice wavered uncertainly. "Claire you're not making any sense, what about Leon a-and...and what about the virus in my blood?"

"Leon's planning to stay here and help stop Umbrella and the doctor said that the virus is stable." The more the redhead reasoned with the girl, the more positive she felt about this idea. "So let's go, we can even ride on my other motorcycle after we stop at my place. It'll be fun, I promise."

Sherry hesitated, but after seeing the other girl's reassuring look, returned Claire's smile. "Alright, I'd like that."

Giddy with anticipation, the two headed down the hall. Claire had not felt this excited since she'd decided to buy her first motorcycle against her brother's wishes. Leon might be mad when he discovers them missing, but she felt certain that he would forgive her eventually. Especially if he saw how much happier Sherry had been just from deciding to leave. Rounding a corner, Claire bumped into someone.

"Woah there, careful now," the man said as he steadied Claire.

Feeling embarrassed, she stepped back with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

Getting a good look at him, the redhead noticed he was wearing a uniform. Pinned to his shirt was a silver badge that read _Valley Hospital Security_.

"It's alright," the man said amicably as he looked them over. "Wait a sec, you wouldn't happen to be Claire Redfield and Sherry Birkin, would you?"

Claire raised her eyebrows, why did security know them?

"Why do you ask?"

He tried to casually shrug. "My supervisor has orders to keep an eye on ya is all."

Her gut twisted at the idea of the hospital keeping tabs on them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sherry squirm in discomfort.

Eyeing them again, he forced his voice to sound nonchalant. "Anyways, It's a little late to be running around don't ya think?"

Blinking at him in distress, the redhead tried to think of an excuse. Seconds ticked by and his gaze turned critical, suddenly suspicious of their actions. Panic began to set in when, suddenly, Sherry yanked on her arm.

Anxiously the girl said, "Claire, I thought we were going to the bathroom. I really got to go."

Both Claire and the security guard looked at her in bewilderment. As if trying to reinforce her statement, the girl clenched her legs together.

The guard's face relaxed. "Ah, why didn't you say you were headin' to the bathroom."

Claire decided to play along, apologized and asked if he could point the way. The two followed his directions, but they could feel his gaze on them until they disappeared into a different hallway. Sighing in relief, the redhead looked at Sherry.

"That was strange. Now let's go to the bathroom and leave before he comes looking for us."

The young girl smiled proudly up at Claire. " I don't really need to go, so let's just get out of here,"

Staring at her for a second, Claire suddenly laughed. "That was some quick thinking, good job!"

Sherry blushed at the praise, but looked pleased. With new found energy, the two girls found the exit, while making sure to skirt around the front desk. Without even a glance back, they disappeared into the night, embracing what they thought was new found freedom.

* * *

Ada sat in the kitchen of a cookie cutter suburban home. With one leg crossed over the other, she drummed her finger lightly on the table as she waited for her contact. Earlier, after disembarking from the helicopter, she had found detailed instructions for the drop off. Her meeting place was in an ordinary neighborhood full of unsuspecting families. They went about their business without ever knowing what went on under their noses.

Thirty minutes had past since the scheduled time. If she had known they would take this long, she would have took the time to clean up. She wanted nothing more then to finish her mission and head home for a shower. She was covered in dirt and blood, and her tattered dress barely covered the important parts. Though, She did take the time to redress her injuries from the massive B.O.W, least she bleed out before completing her objective. The front door creaked open and her hand casually went to her gun.

"Hello, Ms. Wong." A deep voice greeted her.

Her eyes focused on the man in front of her. Dressed all in black, Albert Wesker stood confidently with a silver attache case in one hand. Her reflection stared back at her from his sunglasses, obscuring his own eyes. She had been expecting a middleman to pick up the sample.

"Well if it isn't the big man himself," she said sarcastically.

Unamused, he dismissed her comment. "The sample, please."

Reaching into her bag, Ada withdrew the G-virus sample. The sample had been the only thing to save her from being left to die in Raccoon City. Perhaps she had hit her head too hard during her escape because, as he reached for the vial, she reacted without thinking.

Pulling the vial out of his reach, she asked, "and my payment?"

For a second, she swore something flashed red behind his sunglasses. Then before Ada could think too hard about it, she was yanked forward. Wesker held her wrist in one hand and applied pressure until the woman was forced to drop the container into his other hand. Having received what he wanted, the man released her.

"Your money has already been transferred to your off-shore account."

She sat back and nodded. Ada tried hard not to wince from the pain in her wrist, a faint bruise already darkened the skin. He laid his case on the table and stored the vial inside. Closing the lid, it locked with a _click_.

"Now if your done testing my patience, I have another proposition for you." Wesker picked the case off the table as he looked back at her. "One that will pay very well."

She raised one eyebrow, but kept her expression neutral. "I'm listening."

"I need the patient records from a nearby hospital. It's where your _friend_ , Mr. Kennedy, has taken refuge."

Ada ignored his jibe. "Let me guess, this is about that girl Dr. Birkin infected with the G-virus."

He smirked. "So do we have a deal?"

Headlights from a car outside glinted across his sunglasses as he patiently awaited her answer. The shadows casted across his face made his already sharp features appear sinister. After all the hell she had witnessed in her life, deals with the devil barely fazed her anymore.

"Consider it done."


	3. Chapter 3

Laughter bubbled from Claire and Leon as the redhead told the punchline of a joke. Leon thought her relaxed grin suited her better than the troubled expression she had worn recently. Suddenly, the edges of the redhead's face crumpled like a piece of paper, scrunched up beyond recognition. His mouth opened in horror. Then, her face flattened out into a new face. Before him now sat a Chinese woman. Recognition flared in his mind and he felt happy to see her, even as she scowled at him. His hands ached to reach out and touch her. Kiss her like he had in Raccoon City.

"Ada," he whispered.

As if his voice conjured it, blood began to drip from her hairline. Slowly, it painted paths down her forehead, curving along her cheek and nose before staining her lips. His eyes focused on her mouth as he watched her red lips move. She was trying to tell him something. _Knock. Knock. Knock._ He concentrated, trying to hear her over the knocking in his head.

"Leon!"

His eyes snapped open and took in the hospital room's white tiled ceiling. The strange dream slipped from his conscience. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Ada's death must be really getting to him. Glancing to the side, he noticed the empty cot beside him. Where were the girls?

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

The knocking at the door drew his attention and he stretched his aching muscles before standing. Making his way to the door, he pulled it open. Two women stood on the other side. The blonde military woman, whose name he had yet to learn, and an attractive, dark haired woman, dressed in a business suit. Pushing her glasses up her nose, the second woman stepped forward.

"Leon, I'm Agent Ingrid Hannigan from the DSO," she said as she extended her hand.

Shaking her hand, Leon smiled pleasantly. "Nice to meet you, I'm sure you're here concerning yesterday's events and, just so you know, I'm planning on accepting the offer."

Letting go of his hand, she clasped her own together and nodded in approval.

"Yes, well I'll need to transport you and Ms. Birkin to our headquarters. So we can fill out some paperwork for your employment and transfer your temporary guardianship of Sherry Birkin to us," she said. "Also, as per your request, Claire Redfield will be free to go once Corporal Matthews and I get a report of what she witnessed in Raccoon City."

Hannigan gestured to the other woman as she unknowingly answered Leon's unspoken question about her name. He nodded, everything seemed to be progressing like he thought. Matthews stepped forward and he noticed the bag she held. Handing the bag to him, he found clothes inside.

Noticing his confusion, Hannigan offered an explanation, "A change of clothes for you and the girls, courtesy of the DSO."

"Thanks, I was starting to worry I'd be stuck with hospital scrubs," he said, earning a small smile from the agent.

"Anyways, the girls aren't here right now. They must have gone after some breakfast. I'm sure they'll be back soon," he said.

The women nodded while he stepped back into the room. Motioning for them to wait a minute, he shut the door to get dressed. After changing into the casual clothes they had brought him, he sat on the bed and reached for his boots. Movement caught his eye as a pamphlet fluttered to the floor. Bright white letters read_ 'The Best Cover-up Since Watergate', _advertising the importance of using protection to prevent STDs_. _He almost dismissed it before he noticed the dark pencil writing across the picture at the bottom. Curiosity getting the better of him, he picked the paper up and read the message.

_Leon,_   
_I couldn't let Sherry be used for government testing. Even if it's for a good cause. I know they promised her safety, but let's be honest. They really only care about the G-virus in her blood. Sherry deserves to live like a normal kid. I know I can't give her a completely normal life, but it'll be better than growing up in a lab. So please don't worry about us, you just focus on stopping Umbrella. I'm really sorry we left without saying good-bye._   
_Claire_

The blood drained from Leon's face as he finished reading. He glanced at the bed as if they might magically be there, making the note a lie. He did notice all their things were missing, not that they had brought much with them. Disbelief curled in his stomach over Claire's reckless actions. Clenching his fist, he took a second to calm himself. He had no clue how he was going to explain this to the agent outside. He began to feel frantic. Looking at the message again, he noticed that she'd scrawled her e-mail address on the side, like an afterthought. He took some deep breaths; freaking out would not help.

Running his hand through his hair, he felt briefly angry that Claire had left this mess for him to clean up. He should not have felt surprised though, she had mentioned her distrust of government agencies to him. Still, they could get in a lot of trouble for this or worse one of the bioterrorist agencies found them. His mind started going over his options. Maybe they had not gone far. He might still be able to find them. Standing, he rushed to open the door and startled the two women on the other side. He had momentarily forgotten about them.

Noticing his panic, Hannigan concernedly asked, "Everything alright Leon?"

He furrowed his brows; it was now or never. He handed her the pamphlet. Glancing at it, Hannigan raised an eyebrow. He pointed at the bottom. She read the message and frowned deeply before looking back up at Leon, her expression grim.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they'd go, would you?" she asked.

Leon sighed. "I have an idea."

"Then we'll talk in a sec," she said as she handed the pamphlet to Matthews. "Corporal Matthews, I want you to report this to your superiors, then take this to security. See what they know and review the camera feeds."

Matthews nodded and turned on her heels to complete her objective. Hannigan's intense green eyes focused back on Leon as she indicated for him to follow her down the hall. Walking side by side, Leon tried to prepare himself for the upcoming interrogation. He didn't want to get Claire in too much trouble. Her intentions had been good, but he figured the government wouldn't care about intentions.

"So, let's start with how well you know Claire Redfield," she said, getting straight to business.

Leon did not have to think about his answer, "I'd trust her with my life, as I did in Raccoon City."

They turned down another hallway, leaving the day stay units behind them and entering the ER.

Hannigan nodded her head, having expected his answer. "You mentioned you might know where they would go."

He had expected her to ask this, but he still felt conflicted about giving the information. While he debated, they moved across a busy waiting room. A doctor and some nurses rushed around making preparations to have a patient moved to a bigger hospital. Apparently there had been a severe accident this morning.

"Well she'd been in Raccoon City to find her brother, Chris Redfield."

"So you think she'd go find her brother," she said. "Do you know where he is?"

"No," He said, but thought, _'Not precisely anyway.'_ He would do this one small favor for Claire.

Hannigan did not look like she quite believed him and started to say something else. Her words fell upon deaf ears as Leon focused at a woman in the crowd. He could just make out the back of the woman's head. Short, black, hair fell upon a pale slender neck. Even from behind, he felt certain he recognized the woman. She had starred in his dreams not that long ago. But Ada Wong had died in Raccoon City. The woman did not give him time to process his thoughts as she quickly moved away from him. He rushed after her, leaving a startled agent behind him.

Skirting around an anxious family standing in the middle of the hall, he found his path blocked by a gurney. Nurses pushed an injured patient into the waiting area. The EMTs rushed in to cart the man out to the waiting ambulance. Leon watched helplessly as she disappeared down another hallway. Once his path was clear, he rushed after her. The man swore Ada had died in his arms. How was she alive?

Turning the corner, his feet came to a halt. Nurses and the occasional patient littered the hallway, but none of them were Ada. Confused, he peeked in through the windows lining the hall to see if she had entered any of the rooms. Still no sign of her. Rubbing the back of his neck, Leon wondered if he had imagined her. First, his strange dream and now, envisioning her in the hospital. He needed to get ahold of himself.

"Leon, there you are!" Hannigan said as she turned the corner and found him. She stopped by his side before continuing, "What was that all about?"

"Nothing, just thought I saw someone I knew."

The woman watched his face for a second before resuming her earlier conversation. "As I was saying, let's meet up with Corporal Matthews in Security and see what they told her about the girls, then I'll probably have to contact headquarters to get permission before proceeding."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Proceeding with what?"

"Well, I imagine they'll want to send out an APB and possibly an Amber Alert on Sherry to help locate them."

Choosing not to say anything, Leon felt anxious over her words. Claire might have got herself in more trouble than she had bargained for. There could be serious legal charges if they caught her. For now, he could try to manipulate things from this side to see if they might go easier on her.

He turned to Hannigan as he asked, "So when do I get to start working?"

The woman gave him a small smile. "Well, my superiors will probably want to question you more about Claire and Sherry, but if they okay things, then you can start after you fill out the necessary paperwork."

 _'Good, I can work with that,'_ Leon thought. For now, he would focus on this job so that he start the process of bringing Umbrella down. Then the first chance he got, he would send Claire an e-mail. Perhaps if she just came back now, they'd let her off with a warning. He felt a headache coming on. The redhead was going to owe him big time after this.

* * *

Ada eased open the door of the hospital linen closet and stepped out. The patient room she had ducked into had been blessedly empty. She had noticed Leon shortly after entering the hospital. Watched him as he'd walked with another woman. She had allowed herself some time to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she hadn't expected him to notice her. She wanted to curse herself for breaking one of her own rules-never let anyone get in the way of the mission. Part of her had wanted to let him catch up with her, but her objective came first. Fighting beside each other in Raccoon City did not change anything. For now, it was better for her if he still thought she was dead.

She had spent more than ten minutes in the closet, hoping it was enough time for him to lose interest and move on. As she left the room and entered the hallway, her mind mused over the new information she had gained from him. Wesker would definitely find the news interesting. Apparently, little Sherry had gone missing with the aid of Claire Redfield.

Continuing past the other exam rooms, she stayed mindful of her surroundings. She headed to admissions first and found the hospital map. Memorizing the floor plan, Ada made her way to the nurses' break room. Once there, she waited until the room emptied of any lingering nurses. Entering, she began rummaging through the lockers for a spare set of scrubs. The ones she found were ugly and a size too big, but they would work for her plan. Changed and armed with a clip board, the woman left to find the last item she needed. She passed several patients and hospital employees, but failed to find the best target. Then, from the opposite end of the hall, there rushed an overworked nurse, holding a stack of paperwork.

 _'Perfect,'_ Ada thought as set her plan in motion.

She pretended to read something on her clipboard while walking down the hall. Just as the woman was about to pass her, Ada tripped and bumped into her. Paperwork went flying everywhere as the woman fell back and sprawled on the floor. Ada offered her one perfectly manicured hand as she slid the woman's hospital ID into her pocket with the other. Pulling the nurse up, she feigned remorse as she helped gather the papers from the floor. Too worried about where she needed to go, the woman simply snatched the stuff from the Asian woman's hands and took off.

Having pilfered what she needed, Ada made her way to the nearest nurses' station. A young male nurse stood filling out paperwork as she sauntered up. Calculating how to handle this, the woman paused in front of him. He stopped writing to glance up at her while she read the hospital ID clipped to his shirt: 'Derek Mendes'.

Playing the part of a shy new employee, she asked, "Derek, right?"

He nodded, so she continued, "They need you down in Oncology."

His dark eyes blinked up at her uncertainly as he questioned her. "Are you new? Haven't seen you around before."

"Yeah, just started this week," Ada said coyly.

"Making the new girl run the errands." He looked at her sympathetically before asking, "Did they happen to say what they needed me for?"

She shrugged and batted her eyes apologetically. "No clue, they just told me to get you, sounded important though."

He sighed and pushed off the counter he had been leaning on. With a _'see you around'_ , he left to run the fake errand she had sent him on. The moment he was out of sight she hopped the counter and dropped down in front of the computer. Using the ID number from the tag she had stolen, Ada logged into the hospital's system and began searching the patient records.

Clicking on Sherry Birkin, she skimmed over the information before quickly attaching it to a secured email, along with a quick message about the girl's disappearance with the Redfield woman. Closing out of everything, she erased evidence of her activity on the computer. Ditching the ID in a nearby trashcan, she made for the exit. By the time the nurse realized he had been tricked, she would be long gone.

* * *

The bus had arrived near Claire's off-campus dorm shortly after nine in the morning. After noticing the dark bags under Sherry's eyes, Claire had found a hotel after they had gotten out of town. She paid in cash under a fake name just in case anyone came looking. They ended up sleeping through the whole next day and catching an intercity bus the next morning.

Walking the three blocks to her complex, they headed straight to her apartment on the second floor. Claire hoped her roommate slept at home last night, because she had lost her keys in Raccoon City. Knocking, the girls stood awkwardly outside the door as they waited. Several minutes passed. Claire knocked a second time, then a third, before her annoyed brunette roommate answered the door. Rachel Gren looked hungover as she stood in her pajamas, sporting an impressive case of bedhead.

Her annoyed expression turned to surprise as she croaked out, "Claire? What happened to your key?"

"Sort of lost it," Claire said as she shouldered past her into the apartment, with Sherry trailing behind.

Surveying the mess of empty beer cans and pizza boxes everywhere, the redhead guessed there had been a party last night. She gave Rachel a teasing grin. "Someone had a fun time last night."

Rachel rolled her eyes as she shut the front door and started picking up some of the trash. She returned the banter with a wink. "Without the life of the party it was pretty lame."

They had planned the party together, but Claire skipped out last minute in favor of looking for Chris. Rachel had obviously decided to go through with the party without her. The redhead cleared off the couch so Sherry could sit and watch TV while the other two cleaned up. After making the room presentable, Claire moved on to her room. Rachel followed behind her.

"Did you manage to find your hot older brother?" the brunette asked while leaning in the doorway.

Claire rolled her eyes. Her roommate had met Chris when he had helped her move in and she'd had a crush on him ever since, but the red head did not have the heart to tell Rachel that she wasn't his type. She moved to dig through her closet.

"Well I found something alright, but it wasn't my brother," she said sarcastically as she thought about her zombie-infested discovery.

She picked through her clothes throwing a couple on the bed. Claire would take some of her things, but not much. If she cleared out her savings, she would have enough to buy the plane tickets for herself and Sherry with a good amount left over. First, she needed to go down to the library and do some research on Umbrella. Then, Sherry would need some new clothes since she only had the ones on her back. The redhead made a mental checklist as she threw a duffle bag beside the clothes on her bed.

"So who's the kid?" Rachel asked as she jerked her head towards the living room.

Claire answered as she walked past her, heading toward the bathroom, "That's Sherry. She'll be staying with me for a while."

Coming out of the bathroom with her arms full of her toiletries, the redhead noticed Rachel giving her a _'you better explain'_ look. She had dreaded having to explain things, everything that had happened would sound like some bad horror movie. Except it had been her reality. Motioning for the blonde girl to follow her, Claire emptied the contents of her arms into the duffle bag. Briefly, she told her roommate the abridged version, that Sherry lost her parents in an accident and Chris had already left the city. Not bothering to fold the clothes, she threw them in the bag too.

"Claire, are you planning to go chasing after your brother again?" Rachel said worriedly as she watched her pack. "What about your classes and your job?"

With her absences, Claire figured she would have to repeat this semester's classes, but she did not care. Her brother had been missing for almost a month without so much as a word. She knew Umbrella had caused the incident in the Arklay mansion. That same incident had killed most of the STARS team, but Chris had not given her any specific details. He had thought of that team like his second family and their deaths must have devastated him. Finding Chris needed to come first.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry," Claire reassured her.

The brunette sighed and accepted that she couldn't talk the stubborn woman out of it. "Just stay safe, okay?"

"No promises, but I'll try," she said with a wicked grin.

Rolling her eyes, Rachel turned to leave. "Alright, well I need to take a shower so make sure you lock the door if you leave before I get out."

Nodding, Claire watched her leave before returning to the closet for clean clothes. Not long after, she heard the sound of running water from the shower. Changing into some jeans and a black shirt, she spotted her red 'Let me live' vest in the closet and pulled it on with a satisfied smile. She walked out to the living room to show it off to Sherry. The twelve year old seemed absorbed in an animal documentary when she walked in. At her age, the redhead had been more interested in superhero cartoons.

"You like this kind of stuff?" Claire asked.

Sherry looked up with wistful blue eyes. "Yeah, Mom and Dad used to always take the time to watch these with me."

Her comment flooded Claire with sympathy, but she forced a bright smile. "Well you must be pretty smart to be able to understand this stuff at your age."

The girl looked down embarrassedly from the comment and fidgeted with her fingers. Claire chuckled at how shy the girl could be. She hoped Sherry would open up once they had spent more time together.

"Anyways, I found my other vest. What ya think?" Claire asked as she turned to show off the design on the back. "Now we've both got one."

Looking back up, Sherry studied her outfit before giving her an approving nod. Claire turned and went back to the bedroom for her duffle bag. She surveyed the room sadly as she realized how much she would be leaving behind. With luck, her search for Chris would be over quickly. She already knew he had headed to Umbrella's headquarters in Europe. With some research, she would have a destination and hopefully find some clues there, although, she felt certain things would not be that easy.

She slung the bag over her shoulder and grabbed the key to her second motorcycle off her dresser. The redhead mourned the loss of her other one in Raccoon City. Telling Sherry it was time to go, she turned the TV off. Locking the door, the girls headed down the street to get her bike out of storage.

By Claire's Senior year of high school she had finally saved enough money from her waitressing job to afford a cheap, used motorcycle. The day of her eighteenth birthday, the redhead went out and bought the one she had been keeping her eye on. While it hadn't been her favorite model, she still felt excited to buy one. She had rode the bike home, nervous about her overprotective brother who had vehemently told her a bike was too dangerous. Imagine her surprise when she pulled up to the house and discovered a nicer motorcycle waiting for her in the drive way. Chris' birthday present to her.

When asked why later, he had said, "I figured your stubborn self would get a motorcycle anyway." He had then scowled at the little used bike before adding, "So I figured I could make sure you at least got the safest one."

Claire had kept them both, but cherished Chris' gift just a little more. The redhead smiled at the memory as she and Sherry turned down another street, oblivious to the black company car that pulled up in front of the apartment complex mere minutes later.


	4. Chapter 4

Claire signed in to the public library's computer, while Sherry took a seat with a book across the room, still within the redhead's sight. Pulling up the internet, she waited for the screen to load before using the AOL search engine to look up Umbrella's website. She browsed their homepage which highlighted their motto _"Preserving the Health of the People"_ with pictures of smiling customers and their stories of how Umbrella's products changed their lives.

 _'They'll change your life alright,'_ she thought as the images of the undead from the city came to mind.

Scrolling past all the product marketing, she clicked on the corporate link at the bottom. She skimmed through the entries about Umbrella's history, suppliers, and career opportunities until she found something promising under international services. As Claire read the various locations Umbrella sponsored around the world, she felt suddenly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of influence the company had. The website only showed their public operations-she could only guess how many underground projects they had. Focusing on their European enterprises, she located their largest medical branch in Paris, France.

"Bingo," Claire said excitedly.

Writing down the address, Claire exited out of the site to check flight times to Paris. The earliest flight she found didn't leave until early the next morning from Denver International. They could leave this afternoon and check-in to a hotel outside the airport for the night, maybe take some time to shop for supplies. She glanced up at Sherry while she planned out their trip. The girl looked content as she sat reading in one of the library's armchairs.

Turning back to the computer, Claire decided to check her email. She imagined that Leon was beside himself yesterday after discovering them missing. The man had a very protective nature, so she hoped offering him some means of contact, a way to know they were alright, would placate his anger. Logging in to her account, Claire scrolled past a couple of spam messages and an email from one of her professors-that she wasn't quite ready to deal with yet-before she found his email. Guilt consumed her as she felt his frustration and worry through his message.

_'Damn it Claire, what the hell are you thinking?! Your disappearing act with Sherry has made one hell of a mess here. The DSO is in a frenzy looking for you guys, the agent I met talked to her director and they're having the police issue an APB on you. You will be arrested on sight. Now, I managed to talk her down and buy you a chance, but if you don't turn yourself in within 24 hours they will issue an Amber Alert on Sherry and have you charged with kidnapping. Please Claire, just take this chance. I don't want to see anything happen to you guys. We don't know what kind of groups are out there who would jump at the chance to obtain Sherry. I doubt they'd have a problem disposing of you to get her, either. I'm still being employed by the DSO and will be sent to training soon, so if you need to, ask for Agent Ingrid Hannigan. She's very focused on her job, but I sense she means well. Just return safe.'_

Claire stared at the email in disbelief, then read the message again, hoping she might have read wrong. Leaning back in her chair, the redhead cursed. This was awful, the DSO wasn't playing games. With an APB out on her she would have a hard time traveling around the state, let alone leaving the country. She groaned as she ran her hand roughly through her bangs.

Paranoia descended on her as she wondered if maybe she or Sherry had been recognized on the way over. Perhaps cops already waited for them back at the apartment since her residence wasn't exactly private information. She felt backed into a corner and began to doubt herself. Maybe Leon was right and she should just turn herself in now. He had given her a chance to turn back.

A clattering from the reading area broke through her frantic thoughts. Claire's head whipped over to look at Sherry. The young girl had stood from her chair in surprise. Her book lay forgotten on the floor. Following the girl's gaze, her muscles tensed as she noticed the source of Sherry's shock. A tall blonde man, dressed in shades of black, deliberately approached the girl. Something in his posture reminded the redhead of a predator stalking its prey.

Several peoples' heads turned as the redhead's chair screeched across the floor. Shooting up, she scurried over, desperate to intercept the man's measured walk towards Sherry. Casually, he turned his face towards her to observe the spectacle she was making. Her eyes met the inky surface of his sunglasses as she took in his cold, chiseled features. Recognition flared in her mind, but his actual identity escaped her. A memory curled at the edge of her mind, just out of reach. Where had she seen him before? She brushed past him to stand beside Sherry. His slow, heavy steps stopped in front of them and Claire defensively stared him down.

Trying to keep her voice calm, Claire asked, "Sherry, do you know this man?"

Before Sherry could respond, he interrupted, amusement clear in his voice. "You must be the lovely Claire Redfield."

Unease crept over her as she asked, "And who are you?"

"Uncle Albert." A small voice squeaked, having finally found her voice.

Two pairs of eyes turned their attention to the girl who had spoken out. A blush settled on Sherry's cheeks as she realized the attention was on her.

She swallowed nervously. "Um, this is, uh, Albert Wesker. He was a friend of my dad."

A lightbulb went off in Claire's head upon hearing the name, as she realized why he had looked familiar. A distant memory of Chris' STARS team photo came to mind that had included the man. She had never met him personally, since he never came to off duty events, but Chris had complained about his rigid attitude. However, she remembered Chris' diary had said everyone died at the mansion except himself, Jill, Barry, and Rebecca. Shouldn't that mean Wesker had died too?

"Wesker? As in Captain Wesker of the STARS team?" Claire's voice grew softer as she said uncertainly, "I thought you were dead."

He did not say anything, just silently watched her as if he was waiting for her to say something else. His sunglasses concealed his eyes and made Claire increasingly nervous. She couldn't read the man, but felt a distinct impression of being scrutinized like a specimen under a microscope.

As if needing to clarify herself, the redhead blurted, "I mean, Chris' diary at the police department had listed the survivors from Arklay mansion. So I assumed you had died since your name wasn't there."

Still he said nothing. Claire felt like shaking him for answers. This man who stood silently before her was the only connection to what had happened to her brother that night. She stepped closer and tried to keep her voice soft to avoid being overheard.

"Captain Wesker," she said nervously. "What exactly happened to the STARS team?"

She knew there had been an outbreak in the mansion because of Umbrella, but did not understand what had led to it. She was missing details.

Finally, Wesker asked a carefully worded question. "Your brother hasn't told you about the mansion incident?"

"Well no, not directly anyway," Claire said. "He left shortly after the RPD refused to investigate Umbrella."

She had only found pieces of the incident's report, much of which had been missing. Most likely, Chief Irons was to thank for that. Wesker almost seemed smug over what she had said.

"Well Chris has always had a one track mind, I'm sure he didn't mean to leave his dear little sister in the dark," he said, almost mockingly.

Frowning, the redhead wasn't sure she liked his tone. Something about him was off. Even while standing in a relaxed position the man exuded an intimidating and authoritative aura. Though that was not surprising after hearing the stories her brother had told her about the man. That aside, she did not have the time to be standing here talking.

"We have a plane to catch so it'd be nice if you could tell me why you're here."

With a firm voice he said, "To retrieve Sherry. She's coming with me."

His statement left her speechless for a second before her shock faded into anger. Who did he think he was, coming here and ordering Sherry to go with him? She did not care if he was Chris' boss in the past or if he was used to having authority. The redhead was tired of people assuming they could command things in her life. Her temper exploded.

"Like hell she is!" Claire moved in front of Sherry, blocking her from the man's sight, as she defiantly said, "I wouldn't send her with someone who was friends with a man like William Birkin."

Sherry shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her father and Wesker's face darkened. He took a menacing step towards her, then stopped short. Nearby people kept glancing frequently over at them and the librarian openly gave them the stink eye. They were making a scene standing there arguing in the middle of the library. Not that Claire cared though, she would make a fool of herself in front of an audience if it meant Sherry's safety.

"You seem to be under the illusion that I was asking your permission." His cold, low tone sent shivers down her back. "Dr. Birkin and I developed an academic rivalry during our schooling."

His jaw tensed as he furrowed his brow. The man spoke quietly, but vehemently. "He had his quirks, but I assure you he adored his daughter, whom he trusted me with on numerous occasions."

She opened her mouth in shock, Claire hadn't meant to imply that Birkin didn't love her daughter. Peering at Sherry from the corner of her eye, she tried to assess her reaction to the conversation. The girl simply looked puzzled.

Stepping out from behind Claire, Sherry tried to speak up, mimicking their hushed tones. "Didn't you also w-"

Even behind sunglasses, his gaze felt intense as he turned to her. "Isn't that right Sherry?"

Her words died in her throat as the girl quickly nodded her agreement. Back in control, Wesker moved towards them and Claire tensed again. Raising an eyebrow at her, he languidly retrieved Sherry's book from the floor, then, gestured to the door.

"Unless you want to continue talking about sensitive topics in public, I suggest we find a more private location."

The APB came back to her mind and she suddenly felt exposed. He was right, she didn't wanted to risk someone overhearing. Though, following him out of the public area didn't seem like the best idea either. Acting like she had already agreed, Wesker headed to the library's entrance, dropped the book in the return bin, and exited. Sherry quickly moved to follow after him. His forceful attitude rubbed Claire the wrong way but-after seeing Sherry's eagerness-she decided to see what else he had to say.

Rushing after Sherry, Claire caught up so they could leave the library together. They stepped out into the warm sun and glanced around for Wesker; Sherry spotted him first. The blonde man had chosen the bench farthest from the entrance and patiently waited for them to join him. The redhead took a seat at the other end while Sherry sat between them. Something odd about the situation came to her mind.

"How did you know where to find us?"

Ignoring her question, he watched her reaction as he said, "I hear you're in a little trouble, Miss Redfield."

Claire's mind went immediately to the contents of Leon's email. Her brow furrowed as she realized she had no clue how to solve this issue. Noticing the comprehension in her expression, Wesker continued.

"I imagine that you won't last very long with the police looking for you, and Miss Gren was kind enough to tell me that you have plans to chase after Chris."

"You talked to Rachel?" Claire felt surprised and confused, but he kept talking.

"Now this is going to go one of two ways, either you can go on your own and I guarantee you'll be apprehended by the end of today, or early tomorrow if your lucky, but you have zero chance of making it on that plane." His voice held no emotion as he told her this, staying as neutral as someone talking about the weather.

Her gut twisted as she realized the truth of his statement. On her own she was guaranteed to fail. Leon's offer for her to return came to mind and the redhead realized that they were being forced back.

"Or," he said as he watched the conflict in her eyes. "You can make a deal with me and we can help each other out."

The blonde man extended this offer like a light in the darkness. His proposal sounded so easy. Claire felt tempted to accept, but she needed to think it through. The redhead glanced over at Sherry, who had been sitting silent through the entire exchange. The girl's mood had brightened a little at seeing someone she knew. She probably wouldn't mind going with Wesker, but the redhead wasn't sure it was the best idea.

Dredging up past conversations with Chris, she tried to piece together what kind of man her brother deemed his old captain. Chris had constantly complained that Wesker was a hard ass, but she could sense the underlying respect her brother had for the man. She felt pretty sure that Chris had trusted him. Thinking of her brother reminded her of something else.

"Why would Chris think you were dead?"

Wesker answered with ease. "Likely, because he thought I had died when the Tyrant stabbed me, and by the time I came to, they had already left the mansion."

Claire frowned as she thought of the Tyrant in Raccoon City that Leon had described. The other man had emphasized its overwhelming power. It had taken a rocket launcher to kill the monster. If the Tyrant in the mansion had even a fraction of the same power, it would have done some massive damage. No wonder Chris had thought his captain was dead. She eyed the man before her, amazed that he survived. But she still had another question.

"Why didn't you contact him after you escaped?"

"As you yourself said, Chris disappeared to chase after Umbrella. How could I have contacted him?"

The man had a point, she did not even have a means to communicate with her brother. Her reasons to deny his offer were dwindling. The other option was to go back to the government like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

Wesker leaned back against the bench, looking bored of the topic. "Now if you're done giving me the third degree, I'd like your decision."

"One last question." Claire was pretty sure he scowled. "What are you getting out of this?"

"I plan to leave the country in a company jet for business with my organization. If you come with me, they have a house on the outskirts of Paris. You'll be free to look for your brother and I'll be able to make sure Birkin's daughter gets the care he would want for her."

"How did you know we were going to Paris, and what organization are you talking about?"

"Your computer screen wasn't exactly hidden, and my organization would love to see the end of Umbrella," he said.

 _'The prick walked right behind me and I didn't even notice,_ ' the redhead thought. _'So Wesker is also working with a group to stop Umbrella.'_

She turned to Sherry, asking her opinion on the matter since ultimately this was all for her. The girl fidgeted as they waited for her answer.

Sherry glanced first at Wesker, then to Claire before saying, "Uncle Albert did say you'd get arrested if we didn't go with him. I don't want you to get in trouble, Claire."

Releasing her breath, Claire looked over at the blonde man. He didn't seem surprised about Sherry's answer. Really, her only other option was to go back where they had escaped from; this deal was the only way to continue with her original goal for Sherry. Her brother had admired Wesker while working for STARS. Chris was right to complain about Wesker's attitude problem, but overall he seemed trustworthy.

Looking into his sunglasses, she came to a decision. "Alright, we'll take your deal."

He smirked triumphantly, having expected this outcome. Claire was just glad to have found a solution. A way around the APB that didn't involve turning Sherry back over to the government. She felt like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

 _'Wait for me, Chris,'_ she thought. _'I'll catch up with you soon.'_

* * *

Wesker shut the door to his hotel room and placed his bags on the desk. He had just gotten off the phone after ordering a cleaning crew to the Redfield's apartment. They were to dispose of Rachel Gren's body without being seen or leaving traces. The blonde man couldn't leave a witness who would mention him when the cops came looking for the girls, so he had disposed of her after getting their location.

Taking a seat at the desk, he unpacked his bags. The girls were staying in the adjoining room, just far enough away to give them the illusion of privacy. Earlier, he had bribed housekeeping to let one of his operatives in to bug the room. Turning on his laptop, he pulled out a folder, which contained Sherry's printed medical records. He read over her bloodwork report while waiting on the laptop to start up. A low beeping emitted from the computer screen, alerting Wesker to the incoming transmission. Entering in the connection passcode, the screen brightened to reveal Ada Wong.

"Did my information lead you to the girl?" she asked.

"Yes, you've proved most valuable to us and your payment will be transferred shortly."

The woman shifted to look at something off screen and asked offhand, "And the Redfield girl?"

She left the unspoken question in her mind. _"Did you kill her?"_ Wesker sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his lap as he tried to understand her motives. The spy was not known to normally care about what happened to others.

"How is Mr. Kennedy doing?" he drawled.

Her only response was a small twitch of an eyebrow as she refused to rise to his bait. As long as the objective was not hindered, he did not really care what she felt for the Kennedy man. It did however make good information for future use. Wesker chuckled and decided to throw her a bone.

"I had fully intended to dispose of her so I could send big brother Chris a present," he said mockingly. "But I have discovered that she may provide better use in the future."

The woman nodded slowly and Wesker pressed a couple of keys before hitting enter. A soft electronic ping could be heard on Ada's side of the monitor.

"Your next assignment has been sent and the organization expects a progress report within the week."

He ended the video conference without waiting for her reply. Opening up his company email, Wesker quickly wrote up a vague report on obtaining the infected subject and his plans to move to one of the company's private labs in France. He attached his project overview for the G-virus, providing just enough information to keep the chairman satisfied.

The surviving STARS members' investigation into Umbrella was making the 3rd Organization nervous. The chairman feared that they would reveal the organization and other companies involved in bio-warfare development. Wesker doubted they would make it that deep into the industry, but to appease them he sent their best operative to keep tabs on them. He did not trust Ada, but she always got the job done.

Checking unread emails, he found a recent report from the spy stationed in Umbrella.

_'Data Extraction Progress Report_

_I have infiltrated the ranks of the research staff and expect to be assigned to the central unit within the month. The company seems to be reeling after the Raccoon City outbreak. After the news of Dr. Birkin's failure, many branches are scrambling for the company's project spotlight. I'll send over any data that seems promising. Rumors have spread that the Ashfords are close to finishing a project worthy of restoring their reputation. It's said to involve some new strand of virus. I'll report immediately if the information has substance._

_Jack Bishop_   
_3rd Organization, Intelligence Branch'_

This progress was good, but slow. Having a spy obtain data from Umbrella was tedious. His plans had been set back years when he lost the data at the mansion. He cursed Sergei and the STARS members for interfering. Things would be going much more smoothly if he had the Tyrant and Umbrella's information. The Red Queen might keep him off Umbrella's system for now, but it couldn't hold Wesker back forever. Once he established complete control over this organization then he would be sure to track Sergei down and return the favor.

For now, he would focus on his research. See what he could discover from the blood in Birkin's daughter. It amazed him that the girl had not mutated like her father. Though, they had administered some kind of 'antidote'. He wished he had William's project notes for the formulas and exact properties used, but he supposed he could discover enough on his own with testing. His mind drifted to the Redfield girl who had unwittingly handed him a perfect sample.

His original plan was to kill Claire after getting the girls out of public view, but what he had not expected was Chris to leave her ignorant. In her mind he was still the Captain of the STARS team. She still felt suspicious of Wesker, but his old title had bought him a small amount of trust. Just enough for him to gain her cooperation. Eventually, he could use her to exact his revenge on the older Redfield. The man wouldn't be a pain in his side for too much longer.

Once they arrived in France tomorrow he would be able to set everything into motion. Wesker smirked as he emailed a requisition to the organization for lab supplies. Things might possibly be going even better than he had planned.


	5. Chapter 5

Claire yawned as they stepped out onto the airfield and unloaded their luggage. They had left the hotel early that morning to leave for the airport. After the library, Wesker had left them in a hotel room, so he could _'prepare things for the girls to leave the country.'_ She had to wonder what exactly that meant, but hadn't had a chance to ask. So the girls had spent the night talking and watching bad sitcoms, until the late night news came on.

They had watched, with a stunned, horrified silence, a news report on Raccoon City. A young reporter had been filmed from a helicopter showing the distant remains of the city. The city was reported to have been destroyed by a nuclear bomb to prevent the spreading of a viral outbreak, death toll estimate 100,000. They had mentioned that Umbrella had yet to issue a comment, and the public was outraged that the president had ordered the city's destruction. Hearing the number of lives pointlessly lost left Claire feeling dejected. Sherry had watched the report wordlessly, her face blank of any emotion. When mentioned to Wesker during the car ride, he had said, with a stony expression, that to prevent further infection it was an inevitable event. The redhead couldn't understand how people could create something that caused such devastation.

Now, she and Sherry stood outside Wesker's black car while he walked across the tarmac to meet a well dressed man. The blonde man handed the airport official a stack of papers and what looked like passports. The other man browsed through the information before saying something to Wesker, while pointing at the girls, that Claire couldn't hear.

The rows of charter airplanes around them drew her attention. Each plane was well taken care of, but small and unremarkable. Claire had always flown commercial and hadn't seen a privately owned airport before. This particular place was a small business, mostly used for deliveries and private runs. If Wesker hadn't brought them here she imagined she never would have known this airport existed.

A plane's engine echoed from the hangar as a pilot started the machine, causing Claire and Sherry to jump. A man backed out from the building, making hand signals as he guided a charter plane out onto the tarmac. Positioned for boarding, the main engine died down to a dull hum and the man quickly set to placing chocks by the wheels. When Wesker had mentioned using a company jet she had pictured a sleek fancy plane, the kind businesses used in movies, but the pilot had driven an ordinary charter plane out of the hangar.

The door to the plane fell open and the pilot stepped out. The owner ushered Wesker over to introduce him to the pilot before take-off. The men talked out of ear shot again, so the redhead found herself observing Wesker's profile. He stood straight with his head held high. His sleek blonde hair gleamed against the light of the morning sun. Looking every bit like the authoritative captain from her brother's stories. His expression was neutral as the owner nervously talked to him. She wasn't sure if the blonde man was naturally like that or purposely trying to intimidate the others.

Stepping back from the group, the pilot re-entered the plane. Then, the girls were being signaled to board. They climbed the steps behind Wesker and entered the small white interior. Glancing left, Claire saw the cockpit; four leather passenger seats lay opposite on the right side. The front two seats each had a small table in front of them, one of which Wesker sat in. Immediately, he pulled out his laptop to start working. The two girls chose a set of chairs near the back and deposited their bags at their feet. As they waited to depart, Sherry started to bounce excitedly in her seat.

"You okay over there?" Claire asked with amusement.

The girl forced herself to sit still as she answered. "Yeah, this is just my first time in a plane. I never got to go with my parents when they left on business trips."

Smiling, the redhead jokingly said, "You'd better hold on then."

Sherry looked confused until her focus shifted when the engine roared. They could hear the pilot speaking into his headset as he prepared for take-off. Finally, they began moving down the tarmac. Slow at first and then faster until, finally, the plane pulled up. Claire saw Sherry grip her armrests tightly as the force pushed them slightly back in their seats. The plane rushed up into the air at an angle before slowly evening out, giving the redhead a sense of vertigo. A small breath of relief came from the young girl as their surroundings returned to normal. Wesker had typed uninterrupted the entire time as if he had gone through this several times before.

"Hey Sherry, look out the window," Claire said while pointing to the window beside the girl.

Listening to what she said, Sherry gasped. "Wow! We're so high and look at the clouds."

The redhead smiled at her enthusiasm. She loved seeing the girl look so happy. Glancing forward, she noticed the blonde man hadn't stopped working since they'd boarded. She couldn't help but wonder what was so important.

"So," Claire said trying to get the man's attention. "What are you working so hard on up there?"

Silence. "Wesker?"

The man sighed and, without pausing his work, said, "Don't you have something more productive to do, like let's say strategizing your search for your brother?"

Claire made a face at the back of his head. _Dick._ But she decided not to retort. The man apparently wasn't feeling social. She instead peered over at Sherry, who had pulled out a notebook and pencil snagged from the hotel. Her gaze was focused as she moved her pencil furiously across the paper. The redhead leaned across the aisle to look over her shoulder. The blonde girl barely noticed her. On the paper Sherry seemed to be sketching her view of the pilot flying the plane. Claire glanced up at the cockpit, then back to the paper. The proportions and shading were off, but otherwise the drawing looked realistic.

"Sherry, that's amazing," Claire said approvingly. "You have some real talent. Are you thinking about going into art for a career?"

Her voice startled the girl. She looked up as if alarmed to see the redhead so close. Blood rushed to Sherry's cheeks as she looked away in embarrassment.

"Um, I don't know yet," she said meekly.

"It would be a waste if she did." Wesker interjected as he dug files out of his bag. "She's been top of her class all through her schooling and shows promise. Her talents would be better suited in other fields."

He didn't even look at them as he spoke, focusing on browsing through the various paperwork inside the files. The redhead found his conceited attitude frustrating.

"Shouldn't it only matter what she wants to do?" Claire said, her aggravation seeping into her voice even though she had tried to restrain it.

"You're very naïve, Miss Redfield." Wesker had stopped working and turned in his seat to look at her. "If everyone only did the things they wanted there would be no order. People should focus on what they can provide to further the advancement of Society."

Sunlight glinted off his sunglasses, blinding the redhead for a moment. She raised her hand in an effort to block the light. Squinting, Claire found it hard to look at him as she spoke.

"More progress can be made when people focus on their passions. They work better on subjects they enjoy."

Wesker sat there silently analyzing her before he said, "Chris must have had a hand in your upbringing."

Confused, Claire asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"That explains where you get your idealistic beliefs." He turned back to his work, clearly stating he was done with the conversation.

She could feel her temper rising at his condescending tone and the way he talked about her brother. Claire was just about to demand what his issue was when Sherry leaned over and shook her head. Telling her not to fuel the argument. Taking a calming breath, the redhead decided the girl was right. It wasn't worth arguing about. The man seemed to have a snide comment for everything.

"Arrogant bastard," Claire said under her breath to Sherry, who giggled.

The sound of Wesker's typing stopped. _Had he heard her?_ He turned his head slightly towards them, as if daring her to say something else. A tense silence suffocated the space before the sound of clicking keys resumed as his focus returned to the laptop. Claire relaxed back in her chair and shared a relieved look with Sherry. _How in the world had her hot-headed brother survived working with this man?_

Sherry returned to drawing while Claire rested her head against the window, watching the clouds drift by them. With nothing to do, the redhead found herself lulled to sleep by the hum of the engine and the tapping of computer keys.

* * *

She woke to Sherry shaking her. The girl clutched her backpack in front of her as she told the redhead they had landed. Claire blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked out the window to see the sun dipping into the horizon. She was surprised that she had slept the whole day. Stretching, she noticed Wesker packing up his laptop. He opened the door to the plane and shot her an impatient look. Sherry had already walked up the aisle, ready to leave. It seemed Claire was holding them up. Grabbing the duffle bag at her feet, she hurried after them.

They stepped down from the plane onto the busy tarmac. Several private jets had landed here, many much fancier than their own. In the distance Claire could make out a sign on the main building, _Airport De Paris Le Bourget._ They had landed in France. Several high class cars were driving on and off the airfield and the redhead felt out of her realm. An airport employee rushed to them and Wesker handed over the passports and paperwork again. The two men discussed something in French before the man handed the papers back. They were approved to leave.

Not far off stood a stocky man, with black hair that greyed around his temples. He leaned against yet another black company car. Claire was starting to think that it was the only thing the blonde man rode in. As soon as the man noticed them approaching, he straightened up and offered Wesker a bright smile.

He held his hand out and with a thick accent said, "Bonjour, I'm J-"

Wesker ignored his hand. "Julien Dubois, French division, assigned to _assist_ me. I've read your dossier."

He then moved past him to the car and opened the door to the backseat. Gesturing for the girls to get in, Wesker turned back to the other man. Sherry climbed in first with Claire following close behind her. She watched the exchange between Wesker and the new man with interest. This new man seemed to also be a part of the Organization, but Wesker didn't seem too excited to see him. Julien had recovered slightly from his shock and, still smiling, pulled a set of keys from his pocket.

"Well alright then, shall I take you out to the house?"

Wesker's only answer was to pluck the keys from the man's hand and walk around the car to the driver's seat. Claire noticed Julien's smile wilt as he mumbled something under his breath before climbing into the passenger seat. His smile returned when he noticed them in the back. Twisting in his seat, he offered his hand to Claire.

"As you heard, I'm Julien Dubois. You may call me Julien." He glanced at Wesker from the corner of his eye before asking, "And you are?"

Leaning forward, Claire shook his hand, feeling bad that Wesker had snubbed his handshake earlier.

"I'm Claire and this is Sherry," she said while nodding towards the girl. "Nice to meet you."

He turned back towards the front when Wesker started the car. The blonde man guided the car from the busy tarmac and out onto Paris' streets. As they drove through the city, Claire's gaze kept bouncing between the many sights they passed. Her eyes widened in wonder like a child on Christmas morning. Sherry acted similarly as the girl peered out the other window. They might be there under awful circumstances, but they could still enjoy the small things.

"Is this your first time to the City of Lights?" Julien asked with a grin as he used the side mirror to look back at Claire.

"Yeah, I've never really had a chance to leave the United States before," Claire answered distractedly as she gazed at the many lights beginning to come on as night approached.

"Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy your time here." Julien looked at her thoughtfully, assessing something in his mind. "What exactly brings you here?"

"Dubois," Wesker said warningly. The other man either didn't notice the tone or chose to ignore him.

"Headquarters only knew about one _guest_ , so I was just curious if the pretty mademoiselle was business," Julien said with his tone turning teasing towards the end. "Or _pleasure_."

From the side mirror, Claire could see the man wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. At first, she wasn't sure she had heard right. _Did he really just say that?_ Embarrassment flooded over her and she couldn't help glancing over at the blonde man, who kept his head trained forward as he drove. Wesker was probably old enough to be her father. The redhead heard Sherry snicker, having apparently caught on to the innuendo.

"No, no. It's nothing like that," Claire said adamantly while shaking her head, a blush staining her cheeks.

He laughed. "Business it is then."

Wesker's voice growled out, surprising them. "Dubois, if you value your job I suggest you stop talking."

Stiffening, Julien immediately snapped his mouth shut as if his life had been threatened. Silence enveloped the car as everyone heeded the blonde man's threat. His words from earlier had stuck in her mind though. Julien had said their headquarters was only aware of one guest and that seemed to be Sherry. That brought up the question of why Wesker wouldn't report her presence. Wouldn't it be beneficial for the group if they contacted Chris' group and brought down Umbrella together? And who exactly _was_ Wesker's organization? All these questions gave Claire a headache and she realized she may have agreed to this prematurely.

The residential houses thinned out until the city gave away to the Countryside. They were apparently staying outside Paris. By this time the sun had set and everything was cast in darkness. She could vaguely see the outline of trees and hills, but any natural beauty was lost to her. A half an hour passed as they drove and, at some point, Sherry fell asleep against Claire's shoulder. The redhead had grown tired of staring out the window and her body felt stiff.

Just as she was about to resort to asking how much longer, the car turned down a dirt road that wound through a cluster of trees. The car followed the bumpy road for several minutes before the trees opened up to reveal a modest brick house, illuminated by the car's headlights. A porch light beside the door brightened the steps.

Pulling up alongside the house, Wesker parked the car and the group climbed out. Julien jogged ahead to unlock the door as they grabbed their bags from the car. Wesker went in first after retrieving the house keys from the French man. The two girls followed behind slowly as they tried to see the scenery by the dim porch light. Ivy climbed up the front of the house and curled around the second story windows which had white decorative security bars bolted across them. Claire frowned, unsure as to why they were necessary in a house so far outside the city.

Julien held the door open as the two girls stepped into the house. They stood in the small entrance hall looking over the décor, or lack thereof. The older house had been modernized with sleek wooden floors and fresh paint, but the walls were bare and the furnishing sparse. In front of them a set of stairs lead to a second floor, and beside it was a long hallway with doors on either side.

Claire felt a twinge of homesickness for the warmth of a house well lived in. Her mother's house while growing up had always been small, but homey. This place just felt empty and cold. She put her arm around Sherry and pulled her closer, causing the young girl to peer up at her curiously. The door shut as Julien entered and came to stand behind them. His steps and voice echoed around them.

"Sorry, this house isn't used often and even then it's usually just for overnight stays. So there was never a need to add more than the necessities."

Neither girl said anything, both rather hesitant to venture further into the new place.

"Girls, come here," Wesker's faint voice ordered from further in the house.

They followed his voice down the hall into the house's kitchen. The kitchen was large, but divided in half by the breakfast bar. Counters ran along one side of the room with updated cooking appliances, while the other side had a dining room table. Wesker stood at one end of the table with a stack of papers in hand. As they entered, he gestured for them to take a seat. Sherry sat at the end with Wesker standing at her side. Claire opted for the chair on her other side.

Wesker towered over them. His stoic expression reminded her of a passionless college professor. The blonde man seemed more than prepared to lecture them too. Her mind drifted to her brother and she wondered if this was how the STARS members felt during debriefings. Wesker's deep voice demanded attention as he spoke to Claire, much like a commander giving orders to his soldier.

"Miss Redfield, you are free to search for your brother as you please, but you'll take an escort with you at all times."

It was nice that he wanted to provide her one, but she had proved in Raccoon that she could hold her own. "I know how to take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that, but if you aren't fluent in French I imagine you'll have a hard time getting past the language barrier," Wesker said.

 _Whoops._ Claire ducked her head and said, "Right." She couldn't believe she hadn't already thought of that.

He nodded at her before shifting his focus to Sherry, as if his mind was moving down a mental checklist.

"As for you." Wesker extended the stack of papers in his hand to her. "I'll follow your father's wishes to provide you with the best education. I expect you to work hard and make him proud."

Claire personally disagreed with following the dead man's wishes, but she didn't want to hurt Sherry's feelings. Dr. Birkin might have done monstrous things, but at the end of the day he was the girl's father. Sherry reached for the papers and skimmed through the material, but otherwise stayed silent. Waiting for Wesker to finish.

"These are each subject's curriculum. Each week you will be tested on the material and I expect you to complete one unit per subject a month." Wesker paused, waiting for her reaction. The girl nodded, but seemed apathetic to the entire conversation. "Your textbooks should arrive tomorrow."

Glancing at Sherry, Claire noticed how drained she looked while hunched forward on the table. The redhead watched her worriedly, hoping it might just be jetlag. Though they _had_ brought up her dead father a lot recently. Perhaps it was emotionally draining for the girl. Maybe Wesker's expectations were overwhelming her?

She asked the girl if she could see the papers. Sherry handed them over and Claire browsed through the stack, feeling shocked as she read. The blonde man had the girl learning ten subjects focused mainly on science and math. Her schedule had her reading a chapter a day for each subject. This was more rigorous than the redhead's college classes.

"This is a lot of work and these subjects sound too advanced for a twelve year old." Her eyes were wide as she looked up at Wesker in disbelief.

His tone resembled that of a man enlightening the ignorant. "Sherry's academic performance has shown she is capable of handling it. While not the same level of genius as her father, I do believe her IQ would be well above average."

"So she's a smart girl, that's really great." Claire stood up from the chair and braced her hands on the table, leaning closer to the man as she spoke. "But when does she get time to act like a kid if you've got her cramming all day?"

Unfazed by her aggressive posture, Wesker simply arched his eyebrows like he was rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "All great things come from hard work and sacrifices. Of course, I don't except you to understand that."

She wouldn't let his insults distract her this time. The redhead was prepared to argue her point using his own words. "Doing school work constantly would only exhaust her. You can't expect her best work if you don't give her time to rest."

Wesker pinched the bridge of his nose between his gloved fingers, looking as if he was mentally debating something. "Fine, she can have one day off a week."

Claire couldn't believe it, he was giving into her argument. She smiled in relief.

"But..." The man looked up at her with the ghost of a smile as he added to the agreement. "I expect her to complete two units per subject a month."

 _No freaking way!_ She couldn't believe he'd do that to Sherry. _Didn't the man have a conscious?_ Her chest throbbed angrily as she prepared to rip him a new one.

"That's not fair! You're just increasing her wor-" The redhead stopped mid-rant as Sherry touched her arm to get her attention.

"It's alright, Claire." She turned her blue eyes on Wesker as she said, "I can handle it."

Wesker smirked and turned to look at Claire as if to say, _'see, I was right'_. The redhead forced herself to keep her expressions neutral. She had just wanted the girl to have time for fun, to act her age. In a way, Claire had gotten her way, but the victory felt empty. Now, Sherry would have to work harder. Claire sat reluctantly back down next to Sherry as Wesker continued.

"Also, unless other wise told, I am not to be disturbed when I'm in my office." He gave the girls a meaningful glance for emphasis. Claire made a face, wondering why he needed the privacy. As if reading her thoughts, his intense gaze turned to her. "I do not need any unnecessary distractions from someone who cannot entertain themselves."

Having said everything he needed to, the blond man abruptly turned and headed down the hall. Claire made a dirty look at his back. _What exactly was he trying to say with that comment?_ She couldn't understand why the man viewed her so negatively. It felt like he gave veiled insults to her in every conversation. The redhead had to remind herself that she had done this for Sherry, who needed her. She could put up with the man's nasty attitude to keep her promise to Sherry.

A door down the hall opened and Wesker called back. "Dubois, if you'll follow me, we need to discuss the details of your assignment."

The other man straightened from leaning against the wall and the girls watched him follow after Wesker. They heard the sound of footsteps against stairs and Claire had to wonder why he kept his office in the basement. _Strange._ Since she and Sherry were left to their own devices, they decided to see what else the house had to offer.

They wandered back down the hall to explore the rest of the ground floor. They found a large sitting room, closets, and a half bath. Like the rest of the house, the rooms only had the necessities. Sherry tugged the redhead's arm, eager to go see her room.

Climbing the stairs, they found three almost identical bedrooms and a bathroom. Each bedroom was equipped with a full size bed, dresser, and desk. Upon closer inspection, Claire noticed the bedding was made from quality material, not the cotton sheets he was used to. She was surprised to see wallpaper instead of paint-it didn't match the modern look of the rest of the house. Not that she really cared though. Sherry called for the redhead from one of the other bedrooms.

Peeking into the room to see what the girl needed, Claire noticed several packages stacked on the bed. A paper with Sherry's name was taped on top. Intrigued, they opened them to discovered several clothes for a young girl. Picking up a purple sweater, Claire noted the brand with surprise. These clothes must have cost a small fortune. Though clothing brands probably didn't mean much to the young girl yet. Sherry picked through the clothes beside her excitedly, glad for something new to wear.

She set the sweater back down as the blonde girl chose a night gown and rushed out the door to shower. The redhead supposed she shouldn't complain about costs since Sherry seemed happy. If anything she should be thankful that Wesker wanted to help. He might be tough to get along with, but he seemed to want the best for Sherry. Leaving the room, she decided to pick her bedroom while the other girl was busy. Wesker hadn't mentioned anything about room assignment, so she figured they got to choose.

Claire settled into the bedroom next to Sherry's and unpacked her meagre possessions. Everything fit in one drawer so the redhead decided she might need to go shopping in the morning. If she had been thinking about it, she would have had Wesker stop by the apartment to let her pack more stuff. She'd packed light with the impression that the two girls would be living out of hotel rooms.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Claire laid back with her hands thrown above her head. Even after sleeping most of the plane ride, she still felt tired. Travel could be so exhausting. The redhead stretched and her arms extended out to the wall close to the other side of the bed. Her fingers brushed something rough and she paused. _What was that?_

Turning over onto her stomach, Claire squinted at the wall. She couldn't see anything strange. The redhead pulled herself over and dropped down into the space between her bed and the wall. With her palms laid flat against the wall, she ran her hands across the smooth surface. Perhaps she had imagined it.

Then, she felt the rough texture again. Inspecting closer, she noticed an odd ridge stuck out from the wall and prodded it with her fingers. The ridge felt like something hard had gotten stuck under the wall paper. Claire applied pressure and the object sank into the wall. She heard the faint sound of a spring being released and a section of the wall popped open, revealing a drawer. She couldn't believe it, the redhead had found a hidden compartment. The situation felt surreal, like something written in a Nancy Drew novel. Pulling the drawer open, she sucked in a sharp breath. Inside the drawer rested two handguns and a rifle.

"I don't think you should be messing with that."

The voice startled Claire and she turned around to discover Julien leaning in the doorway. _When did he come up here?_ Having got her attention, he straightened from the door and walked around the bed towards her. She tried to keep her cool as he came to stand beside her, but on the inside she was nervous.

Looking pointedly from the cache of weapons to him, she said, "Expecting company?"

He used the tip of his shoe to push the drawer back into the wall. They heard a soft click as it settled back into place. She could barely make out the seam in the wall where the compartment was hidden.

Julien shrugged, and solemnly said, "In my line of work you can never be too careful. Companies like Umbrella have a nasty habit of making problems disappear."

Swallowing, Claire nervously licked her lips as she stood from her crouch on the floor. She met Julien's green eyes and asked, "Is there a reason you're up here?"

" _Oui_ , of course," He held his hands up as if to calm her suspicions. "Wesker sent me to let you know that whenever you go out I'll be the one to escort you."

"Oh, okay." She eyed him warily, but relaxed. "I'll probably want to go into the city tomorrow morning."

The man nodded as lights cut across the room from the window. Then, a car honk sounded from outside. The redhead moved to look out her window. Idling out front was a silver sedan.

"Ah, that would be the wife," Julien said with a sheepish grin. "I'd better get going. She hates to be kept waiting. See you in the morning, Claire."

He gave her a small wave before disappearing down the hall. Claire stood by the window until she saw him step out the front door and climb into the car. It wasn't until the car drove around the bend and out of sight that the redhead moved to sit on her bed. Julien's interruption had felt almost timed, like he had known she was snooping around the guns. Or maybe it had only been a coincidence? She sighed, wondering when she began to view people so suspiciously. Not that long ago her life had been so carefree.

Deciding to worry about it later, Claire dressed for bed and peeked into Sherry's room to find the girl already asleep. The third room was still empty; Wesker must still be working down in the basement. The man seemed to have a strict work ethic that included minimal down time. She returned to her room and climbed under the covers. The redhead hoped tomorrow's excursion would produce some kind of lead on her brother. Sleeping at a strange house in a foreign country made her miss him, now more than ever.


	6. Chapter 6

Lush green hills and farmlands rushed passed Claire's window as she and Julien drove in his car back to Paris. They'd driven in the dark yesterday and the redhead hadn't been able to admire France's countryside. The fields along the road were beautifully styled and lined with eye catching flowers. She really loved the historical architecture of the buildings, designed during simpler times. Next to her, Julien tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the radio as he drove.

He'd arrived early that morning, chipper and ready to go. She, on the other hand, struggled to wake up, accustomed as she was to sleeping in after late nights out. After drinking an extra sweet coffee, she'd felt ready to fully function. All these early starts lately were starting to get to her. Claire had wanted to take Sherry out with her, but had quickly been rebuked by Wesker, who reminded her the girl had school work to start today. He'd said she would only be a distraction and sent them out the door. If she didn't know better, it was almost like he was eager for her to leave.

Reaching over to turn down the music, Julien kept his eyes on the road as he said, "What's our first stop?"

"Well first, I figure I'd stop by Umbrella's corporate office." After giving it a lot of thought last night, the redhead decided that her brother would probably head for the people in charge. "I don't know if Wesker told you, but I'm looking for my brother, Chris. He wants to bring down Umbrella, like you guys, and it's kind of his style to go straight to the source."

Julien whistled lowly, but looked unsurprised by what she had said. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "That's like poking the hornet's nest, just going to piss them off."

She knew that, but there wasn't much else she could do. Her wallet photo of Chris currently sat in her pocket, having been taken out for easier access. With it, she hoped to speed up the search by providing a face to his name. If this lead didn't turn out, then she would try the big hospitals, then smaller practices. Chris had to have stopped somewhere in France since they were known for holding Umbrella's biggest medical branch.

"Not much else I can do, though." Poking around seemed to be the only way she would find information. She didn't feel like discussing the fundamentals of her plan with him and changed the subject. "Also, I need to buy a couple personal things so do you think we can stop by some stores?"

" _Oui_ ," He said in French, his focus returning to the road as the traffic around them started increasing.

"So, what exactly do Wesker and you do in the Organization?" she asked curiously. His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Eh, a lot of things really. Just depends on the branch you work in. For instance, I'm part of the research department," Julien said and seemed to grumble the next part to himself. "Something Monsieur Wesker seems to have forgotten since he's having me run around like some field agent."

This piqued her interest. "What are you guys currently researching?"

He smiled humorlessly before saying with somber tone. "That's classified business within the organization. Just like how any agency has its internal secrets."

"Wesker was a special forces police captain, how could he be qualified to help in a research department and how exactly are you planning to stop Umbrella from using viruses to kill more people?" Claire fired off her questions rapidly, fueled by her anxious thoughts from last night.

The man's features went rigid. "Look, those are all things you need to ask him. Answering your questions isn't part of my job," he said sternly.

Exasperated, Claire griped childishly. "I doubt he'll tell me anything."

"Then why are you here?" Julien asked not unkindly- just trying to make a point. "From my understanding, you agreed to be here. You might not find it ideal, but don't complain about what you picked to do."

His comment stung and left Claire feeling chastised. She looked away, outside the window to gather her thoughts. Trying hard not to reply with her temper, because everything he said was true.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

He waved away her apology and relaxed. "No harm done."

Both felt content to simply listen to the radio and muse over their own thoughts after that. It took about a half hour to reach Paris, whose traffic was congested. Driving was slow as they tried to maneuver the busy streets. A car in front of them slammed on the brakes and they jerked forward as Julien stepped on their brake to avoid rear-ending the car.

" _Allez_!" he shouted in French.*

The redhead's heart pounded after being jerked around. Bracing herself on the dashboard, she looked over at the driver. "Is traffic always like this here?"

"It is all these crazy tourists," Julien said with frustration before he turned to her with concern. "Are you alright?"

She reassured him she was fine and they continued cautiously towards their destination. Long before they turned down the building's street, they could see the top of Umbrella's corporate office. Its infamous logo towered above like a silent sentinel, looking down on the people below. The sun's painful reflection off the windows made it hard for people to look too long. Julien drove past and turned down a smaller road to find the parking garage.

Grabbing a ticket from the machine, Julien waved to the parking attendant as he went to park. They climbed out of the car and Claire's energy buzzed with the hope of getting closer to Chris. The other man almost had to jog to keep up with her excited pace. They exited the garage, but before Claire could cross the street, Julien pulled her back by her arm. She gave him a questioning look.

"What's your plan?" he asked.

"My plan?" _Go in and ask about her brother._ There wasn't much else she could do.

Julien clarified his question, trying to get her to slow down and think. "You can't just march into companies like Umbrella's and demand answers. They'll shut you down quick."

"Well what do you suggest I do then?" Claire asked. It wasn't like she thought her choice of action was the best, but she didn't know anything better.

"Follow my lead. We'll go in, show the receptionist your picture and ask if they know him. We won't mention his connection with Umbrella. You're just a concerned sister looking for her missing brother, got it?" Julien asked and then paused to see if he had her attention. She nodded and he continued. "It's unlikely they'll answer truthfully, but I'll watch how they react to the photo and see if that tells us anything."

That seemed like an awful roundabout way to get information, but he was right that companies like Umbrella would lie, among other things, to protect their own interests. Okaying Julien's plan, the two crossed the street and went around to the front entrance. The redhead felt glad she didn't work as a spy because all these deceptive techniques were out of her depth.

Holding open one of the glass doors, Julien waved her through. Claire stepped into the huge waiting room and tried not to look intimidated by the high-class dÃ©cor. The waiting room was done entirely in white with red accents. Everything from the floors to the glass hanging lights were so sleek they shined. The contrast of the black receptionist desk against the bright interior was almost startling. Her head held high, Claire approached- adding a little swagger to her step just for the hell of it. Julien looked amused, but nodded in approval as he followed her.

A young, well dressed woman sat behind the wide wooden desk, typing at the computer. Noticing them approaching, she turned her screen to face completely away from them before folding her manicured hands across the white granite top.

" _Comment puis-je vous aider?"_ she asked in French with a nasally voice.*

Coming to a stop in front of her, Claire looked to Julien for a translation as he positioned himself at her side. He quickly responded to her in French and the two talked between each other before Julien turned back to Claire. Even without being able to understand the conversation, Claire noticed the haughty look she gave them.

"She asked how she could help us. I explained to her that you had some questions to ask her and I would translate for you. She wasn't pleased, but I convinced her to agree. Now in a second I'll have you give her the picture and I'll follow our plan from there."

Nodding, Claire waited as Julien conversed further with the women then gestured for the redhead to show her the photo. She slid Chris' photo out of her pocket and held it in her hand. The corner had a crease from getting folded accidently while in her wallet. A younger Chris smiled proudly up at her, having just gotten accepted into the Air Force. He'd been so happy that day and their mother had thrown a small party to celebrate.

The receptionist tapped her nails impatiently against the counter and broke Claire from her fond memories. Running her thumb over the picture to smooth it, Claire tried to focus. She slid the photo to the other woman and watched her features intently. Julien had said he'd tell her if he noticed anything, but the redhead wanted to see for herself.

With pursed lips, the woman gingerly picked the photo up and held it close to her face. After barely a second, she shook her head and threw it back down. She and Julien engaged in another conversation, but Claire had an idea what they might have said. Quickly retrieving her photo off the counter, she shot the other women a suspicious glance. Julien pulled her to the side, out of the lady's earshot, when he had finished talking.

"What did she say to you?" Claire asked.

The man shrugged apologetically. "No luck. Didn't recognize him and I saw nothing in her expression to say she did."

That couldn't be right. Claire could have sworn for a moment that the woman's eyes had widened. It hadn't been much, hardly noticeable, but she had seen it. She voiced this to Julien, who gave her a sympathetic look.

"Are you sure that your desire for her to have information didn't cause you to imagine it?"

She shook her head. There was no way she'd make it up, not with so much riding on finding her brother.

"It's not uncommon for someone to convince themselves they saw what they wanted to see. You must be really worried about your brother, no?"

Claire bowed her head in frustration, the other man seemed to only want to deny her claims.

"Look, Claire, I didn't notice anything in her expression change and I've been trained for this kind of thing." Julien sighed, but tried to make peace with her. "If it will help you feel better though, I'll ask her to schedule us an appointment to come in and ask around."

Claire brightened at his compromise. He left her side to return to the receptionist desk and schedule the appointment. They left the building soon after with the vague sensation of being watched. As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Julien gave her a pity smile.

"So, you mentioned earlier about shopping? Why don't we go ahead and get that done," he said. Claire could tell he was using this suggestion to distract her from her disappointment. "I'll take you to all the shops my wife loves."

She honestly felt tired after dealing with all that and didn't want to leave Sherry alone too long. Still, there were some things she needed to buy. Half-heartedly, she accepted his offer.

They returned to the car and left the garage. Stopping only to pay for the parking, Julien took her first to a clothing boutique where he claimed his wife spent half his pay check. Claire could tell from his words that he deeply loved his wife. So, she found herself smiling at how cute it seemed. Afterwards, they stopped by a drug store for some personal items and then she felt compelled to enter an art supply store. In there, the redhead had found a sketchbook for Sherry and splurged on some interesting dÃ©cor for their rooms. She hoped to soothe her homesickness by adding a personal touch to the house. By the end of her shopping spree, she'd filled the backseat with bags of her purchases.

 _'Nothing like relieving some stress by shopping,'_ she thought amusedly.

By the time they started the drive back to the house, they'd found themselves in the lunchtime rush hour. Driving through the streets was just as hectic as it had been that morning. Julien turned down a deserted road and the redhead looked at him questioningly.

"A detour to get around the traffic," he said in explanation.

She sat back in her seat as they left the tourist streets for the quieter residential community. The areas they currently drove through had older, tall, brick apartments. They were worn and in desperate need of repair, not as pleasant to look at as homes on the main road. A couple of people walked down the sidewalks, but not many. Her mind drifted, not focusing on any one thought. After a while, she noticed Julien kept anxiously glancing back through the rearview mirror.

Using the side mirror, she noticed a black tinted SUV. At first she shrugged it off since they could be anyone, but after Julien made several turns that the vehicle followed, her companion's nervous behavior started to rub off on her. She was just about to ask Julien what was going on when she was thrown forward, the seatbelt cutting into her shoulder as it stopped her from hitting the dash.

Her eyes went wide as she watched the approaching SUV behind them through the side mirror. Again it hit the back of their car, jolting them and causing Julien to jerk the wheel. The car hit the curb and jumped onto the sidewalk. Someone close by screamed. Their car stopped inches from a building as they both breathed heavily. Behind them the other car idled menacingly as a door opened. Metal glistened in the sunlight.

"Julien?" Her voice came out high-pitched.

He ignored her as his features pinched in concentration. Throwing the car in reverse, he sharply turned the steering wheel and the car careened into the SUV's open passenger door. The redhead watched a man dive for cover, his gun sliding across the road, out of reach. Switching gears and turning the wheel again, the French man sped down the street. He took several sharp turns down alleys and other streets until they found themselves back on the busy highway. No black vehicle in sight. Her fear turned to outrage and her hands trembled from the adrenaline. Those people had had a gun. _Were they going to kill them?_

"What the hell just happened?" Claire demanded after they seemed to have escaped their pursuers.

"That is exactly why you don't poke a hornet's nest," Julien said darkly and confirmed her fears.

Umbrella knew who they were and they were ready to silence them. They rode home in silence, feeling rattled after the jarring experience.

* * *

A low buzz broke the silence of the room as Wesker started the centrifuge. The machine worked to separate the cells from Sherry's blood, which he had obtained that morning. After Claire and Julien had left, he had brought Sherry down to the basement which housed a lab. The young girl had been eager to cooperate after he explained his desire to monitor the virus in her blood, for her health of course.

She insisted on calling him Uncle Albert more now than she had in the past. The nickname had been a less than amusing joke on Birkin's part that his daughter had used occasionally. Now, she hung on to it like a sacred memento of her past. He found no reason to deny her that since it seemed to ease her transition into her current situation. The girl was at an age that could be easily influenced. Manipulating Sherry's actions towards his own goals would be easy if he was the only person making an impression on her.

Claire Redfield's influence on her could become troubling. The girls seemed to have formed a strong bond from surviving Raccoon City together. It'd been difficult to convince Sherry to keep the basement lab and his past job with Birkin a secret. The threat of how the information would hurt Claire had been the swaying point. Sherry seemed scared of becoming a burden to Claire. He might be able to use that to slowly switch her main affection from the Redfield girl to him, to avoid any future complications.

The machine pinged letting him know that the blood was done separating. Pulling the vials out, he stored all but one of the vials in an industrial cooling unit marked with a biohazard sign. Wesker took the other vial to the counter against the wall which held his computer and microscope. Above the counter hung a shelf which contained his various lab notes. He pulled down the binder marked G-virus and flipped it open to his research from the sample Ada had retrieved for him.

Carefully, he extracted the cells from the vial and onto a glass slide. Moving over to the microscope, he began to observe Sherry's sample. For now, Wesker planned to note the characteristics of her virus, then use the original virus as a reference range for comparison. He would record all his discoveries in the notebook, then later filter certain information onto the computer, controlling what the Organization had access to in his research.

He knew from his time working with Birkin that the G-Virus discolored all the subject's blood due to a mutation of their DNA. Their blood came out a solid, dark reddish brown. Intriguingly, Sherry's blood contained only spots of discoloration. This could be due to the virus not activating the same genetic markers in every cell, but that still left the question of what antibodies in her blood weren't present or as strong in the original virus.

Focusing the microscope lens, Wesker got a closer look at her cells. While the G-virus took over the host cells, causing the DNA to mutate, the cells often mutated and divided so quickly they burst. Sherry's cells, however, seemed to have assimilated with the virus. From one glance he noticed her cells seemed to have gained an extra outer layer and potentially a new organelle. Currently, they seemed to be operating like normal. He wondered if her cells had retained any of the characteristics like rapid regeneration. _Perhaps the virus had gone dormant and needed a stress factor to activate the mutation?_ For now, her blood's properties were a mystery, but given time he'd discover the answers and harness its potential.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a yellow flashing light from the monitors built into the far wall. Straightening from his hunch over the microscope, Wesker crossed the room and hit a button on the monitor. The screen lit up to display the camera feed for the front of the house. Julien's silver sedan had pulled up the drive and Wesker watched Claire and him climb out. Julien helped her carry in various shopping bags. They disappeared from view as they entered the front door.

Pressing another button, the feed switched to display Sherry sitting at her desk reading through one of the textbooks. The girl had adapted well to her studies, just as he thought. Switching the monitor off, Wesker returned to his microscope to make a few more notes before Julien came down. The man had his own key and passcode so Wesker wouldn't need to continuously let him in.

Minutes passed before he heard Julien's descent and the sound of his passcode being accepted. The heavy metal locks mechanically turned as the vacuum sealed door hissed open. Wesker moved away from the microscope again to turn towards the man, awaiting his report. Julien walked in but stopped at the island counter, leaving it in between the two of them.

"We did what you said and your suspicions are correct. They've spread Chris Redfield's identity amongst the employees. I'd say they may even already be monitoring him. I did not inform Claire of this, but she held her own suspicions," Julien said and Wesker made a mental note to relay this to Miss Wong for her search. He had noticed the Redfield girl's sensitivity to people's actions. Her suspicions against him may have been easy to quell, but Wesker knew she still felt uneasy around him.

Approvingly the blonde man said, "Good, I want you to keep her busy searching for leads, but don't let her get close just yet."

He started to turn back to the microscope when the French man nervously spoke up again.

"Also, I think Umbrella realized that we weren't who I said we were." A thick silence followed the French man's words as Wesker waited for him to elaborate. "They sent someone to run us off the road."

 _This complicated things._ Wesker gave Julien his full attention as he asked reproachfully, "Did you at least make sure you weren't followed back?"

Julien briskly nodded, feeling offended by how Wesker's tone suggested he was incompetent. The blonde man said nothing as he turned back to his research in aggravation. His actions made it clear to Julien that he was being dismissed. The French man gritted his teeth. As a renowned scientist in his division, he was unused to being treated like an inferior by a fellow scientist. Even though within the Organization the man outranked him, Julien was still tired of Wesker's disrespect.

"You know, I really don't understand why we need to use company resources to search for this Redfield man or entertain his sister." Displaying sudden courage, Julien walked around the island counter to face Wesker. His voice sounded accusing as he continued. "The chairman may regard your work highly, but he assumed the assets here would focus on harnessing the virus from the young girl into a profitable bioweapon."

Glancing over at the man, Wesker felt like laughing at his feeble attempt at a power play. He had respected Julien for his easy to trust persona around the girls, they'd relaxed around him quickly. The French man was skilled with deceit, but he was no match for a man like Wesker. It seemed time to show him who had the upper hand.

"Dubois, your credentials say you're a smart man," Wesker said as he darkly watched Dubois preen from the compliment.

Inhumanely fast, he pushed the man backwards into the counter. The edges cut painfully into Julien's back as Wesker invaded his space, his arms preventing any escape. Pressing down too hard, the other man whimpered as Wesker left dents in the surface of the island.

"But perhaps you lack the ability to tell when you're out of your league."

His eyes flashed red as his muscles thrummed from the power. The other man's eyes widened as Wesker listened to the sound of his heart thumping erratically in his chest.

" _Oh mon Dieu!"_ The French words sounded raspy as they left Julien's lips like a frightened prayer.*

"Your God won't save you here." His tone held hints of excitement at a chance to display his genetic superiority. Wesker smirked deviously, enjoying the man's fear. He kept his voice calm with no hint of malice as he spoke his threat. "I suggest you learn your place unless you want your wife to aid my research as a test subject."

Wesker pulled away, putting space between the two, but distance provided the other man little solace. Ignoring Julien as he trembled in shock, Wesker turned away from him and flexed his hand in fascination. It had been over two months since his rebirth and he still felt amazed by the power he'd gained. Abandoning his humanity with the Progenitor virus had evolved him beyond even death. The raw potential pumping through his veins would bring about the next step for humanity.

Composing himself from the power high, Wesker smoothed back his hair before returning to his cell sample. His returned his mind to his research and spent several minutes writing down notes. Julien had stayed, quivering, in the same place against the island.

Without looking up from his work, Wesker gave him an order. "There's a list over there of the supplies I need. Send it in as a requisition so I can start the first stages of testing for the G-virus."

Recognizing that the danger had momentarily passed, Julien moved on shaky legs to quickly do as he was told. He sat in front of the computer with the list laid out next to him, unconsciously putting maximum distance between him and the blonde man.

"Oh and Dubois, it'd be best if you kept what happened here today between us." Wesker's tone held promises of what would happen if he told the Organization.

Julien nodded enthusiastically, barely able to meet the other man's gaze. The man's quick behavior change made Wesker smirk. It seemed just from displaying a small amount of his abilities, he had gained another submissive subordinate. If swaying all the members within the Organization proved just as easy then he imagined he'd be pulling all the company's strings very soon.

* * *

"Alright, take five." The training instructor shouted as the small group of candidates collapsed onto the field.

Many simply laid out on the grass, their chest heaving for air after the intense physical training they'd endured all morning. Leon struggled to his feet, eager to grab his water bottle. Chugging his bottle, he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. He thought he'd been in good shape before but the regimen here tested even his skills. The officials in the newly formed DSO had picked the most capable agents to work within the agency. He understood that this training was meant to make them the best of the best.

The instructor's pager beeped and he briefly checked the message. "Kennedy, got a call for you in the main office." Leon nodded and one of the men beside him groaned about his luck to get a break.

"As for the rest of you, give me twenty push-ups since you all want to whine," the instructor shouted over all the complaints.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Leon jogged back down the path they'd just ran. He wondered who the caller must be since normally the instructors didn't allow calls during work outs. Fifteen minutes later, Leon entered the main office of the training facility. His muscles ached from all the exercise and the air conditioning was a welcome relief after the warm outdoors. He gave the receptionist his name and he directed Leon to a private landline. He stuck the phone against his ear, still slightly out of breath.

"Kennedy here."

A woman's voice answered with a brisk tone he had come to recognize. "Leon, its me, Hannigan."

"Miss me already?" he asked teasingly. Leon had last spoken with her a couple weeks earlier in the hospital, right before being sent for training.

"I wouldn't call over something so trivial," she said with disapproval in her tone, not in the mood for jokes.

He caught on to the mood and the playfulness left his voice. "So, any news about the girls?"

Leon had been disappointed when Claire hadn't followed his advice by turning themselves in. The girl now faced harsh reprimands from the federal government when they were found.

"Our search for the girls has reached a dead end. The APB and AMBER alert have turned up nothing. We've had agents sent to her college to talk to her professors and classmates, but none of them have heard from her since before Raccoon City." Hannigan said this like she was reading from a report. Professional without personal involvement.

"Also, we've stopped by her apartment hoping they might be there or at least to question her roommate. We've monitored the building for a week now and nobody has come home. It seems that a day after the girls left the hospital her roommate, Rachel Gren, also went missing. We're assuming she might be helping them."

Leon stayed silent, not knowing how to react to more disheartening news. A light tap on his shoulder made him look up from the phone. One of the facilities coordinates stood over him and quietly mouthed, "My office when you're done." Leon nodded and the other man left him to finish the call. Hannigan had more to say.

"I've been monitoring airports since we did get a ping on Claire booking tickets to France, but they were cancelled and her passport hasn't been used. Right now, it looks like their trail has gone cold. Either this girl knows how to go off grid or she has help from an outside force."Her voice suddenly sounded agitated when she said, "The agency is not happy it has taken so long to track down two girls."

The agency's head, Derek Simmons, seemed to command things while the government brought in the new president, after the current president resigned shortly after the bombing of Raccoon City, weeks earlier, due to public uproar. Hannigan served as a temporary DSO representative as she settled the chaos between departments and reported directly to the new president.

Leon had been surprised to learn that the founding of the Defense of Security Operations had been very recent. Established after the military began to lose control. When Hannigan approached Leon in the hospital, the agency was only days old. The discovery of Umbrella's private operations had created a panic within the government. Since Umbrella was global they had no idea what kinds of bioweapons foreign branches could be in control of or selling to hostile countries. They wanted a group of agents prepared to handle any future problems that may arise, both inside and outside the country. The DSO became the United States' direct response to bioterrorism.

"Simmons has made it the agency's top priority to locate Sherry. He says the virus in her blood could be a national threat if any terrorist groups get their hands on her. I've told him you have a direct connection with the two and may have helpful insight into their location," Hannigan said. Her voice sounded weary from overworking. "Also, since you're the only one with experience dealing with the effects of the virus, Simmons decided he wants you out in the field ASAP."

He didn't really feel surprised. The other officers in the training program were indeed capable, but none of them had the experience he did.

"They've decided to speed up your training, expect to graduate the program by the end of next month."

"Wait, what?" he asked, feeling shocked.

Wasn't that rushing things too much? Leon understood that after Raccoon City they wanted to tighten security standards involved with bioterrorism, but surely they had other agents who could work in the field until he'd properly finished training.

"Feel honored, this has almost never been heard of before. Many top officials believe in your potential," she said, chastising his lack of acceptance.

 _'Or he's really desperate to have a sample of the G-virus back in the government's hands,'_ Leon thought as he recalled Claire's concerns from the hospital, but he didn't voice this aloud. Not that he could blame them though. An enemy was a lot less scary if you knew how to fight back. If they could study the virus they could create a vaccine and either make the weapon obsolete or at least save thousands of lives.

Hannigan dropped her professional tone as she expressed her own concerns. "Before I put you on this I want to know, honestly, can I expect you to act professionally? You might be close to Claire Redfield, but I need to know I can trust you to put your job and your country first."

"I'll do what needs to be done to bring them back safely," Leon said, purposely not answering her question.

She sighed wearily. "That wasn't really a direct answer, Leon, but I'll take what I can get. I'll have your first assignment ready by the time you finish your training."

"Straight to the field after the academy. I see you like to slave drive your men," Leon said with a smile.

Hannigan sighed again into the phone, but he could hear the smile in her voice when she said, "Goodbye, Leon."

"Try to get some rest, Hannigan."

They finished their goodbyes and hung up. Leon had to admire her work ethic. With all the chaos going on within the agencies, he knew her job wouldn't be easy. Stretching, he took a moment for himself before he had to return to the structured pace of this facility. The training schedule had already been packed with academic and physical training. With his sped up graduation time, Leon felt sure they'd pack even more into the schedule. The exercising he could handle, it was the desk work spent studying domestic and foreign government policies that bored him. Leon was a man of action, not a politician.

After a couple more minutes of quiet contemplation, he stood ready to face his newfound responsibilities.

* * *

The days passed slowly and before Claire knew it the end of October was near. Each day seemed to follow a pattern. Claire and Julien would venture into the city. After the incident with the SUV Julien was careful to make sure they stayed in heavily populated areas. He promised her that as long as they stayed a small problem the company wouldn't approach them in public. So they continued to snoop around areas that Umbrella sponsored for any clue about her brother; none had seen him. She felt frustrated with the lack of leads.

To distract herself, she would take Sherry out to experience the sights around France on the girl's days off. Julien still had to accompany them, but he seemed more like a shadow those days. Content to let the two girls bond with each other. Most of the Sherry's days were spent studiously working on the assignments given to her. Sometimes Claire tried to follow along and help her, but her college major had been Human sciences. She could help with the basics, but most of the more specialized subjects were as new to the redhead as they were to Sherry. It made Claire nervous how Wesker seemed to be pushing her towards a similar field as her father. Perhaps he was hoping to have her aid in research combating bioweapons?

Wesker himself barely made any appearance. If Claire woke early enough, she would see him with a cup of coffee in the kitchen before going down to the basement. He'd then spend most of the day cooped up working on some project for the Organization. At the end of each week, he'd come upstairs in the afternoon to give Sherry exams in the dining room. After grading her work, he'd then return to his dungeon. He practically ignored Claire all together except when he absolutely had to say something to her. The redhead tried to engage in friendly conversation when she saw him, but he mostly gave one word answers. On bad days she got barbed insults or comments about her brother. Chris hadn't been exaggerating their rough work relationship.

That morning, Sherry sat at the dining room table with one of her textbooks laid out and a notebook in front of her. Claire came up behind her, sipping at a cup of orange juice, to see which subject it was, only to discover the girl drawing. Her sketch book laid atop her notes in a way that looked like the girl was writing in her notebook. The redhead smiled; since coming here the girl had already filled half a sketchbook. Her newest drawing looked like an outline of a person, but wasn't yet detailed enough to distinguish much else.

"If Wesker catches you, you'll get another lecture on productivity or some nonsense," Claire warned her.

The older man had no tolerance for fooling around. He'd already taken Sherry's first sketchbook when she scored lower than a ninety-five percent on the last weekly test. Wesker had said her drawing was too much of a distraction. Claire had rolled her eyes and secretly replaced her sketchbook with the current one the next time she went out.

Sherry tensed for a second in surprise and moved her sketchbook under her notes. Realizing who it was, she turned to Claire with a small impish grin. "Uncle Albert doesn't have to know."

Claire laughed and nudged her shoulder. "Atta girl," she said with a wink.

Moving around the counter into the kitchen, the redhead rinsed her glass out and set it in the sink. She felt proud that the girl hadn't completely reformed to Wesker's authority.

"You had breakfast yet?" Claire asked as she searched the cabinets for something to eat.

Food was something she didn't seem to have to worry about. Wesker kept the cabinets stocked with plenty for them to eat. He seemed to order online since deliveries arrived weekly. All they had to do was fix their own meals.

"No, but I'm tired of cereal," Sherry said with annoyance.

Most mornings Claire either slept in or left early with Julien- this morning the French man had other plans. The young girl usually made her own breakfast.

"Well, why don't we make something together, then?" the redhead asked as she inspected a container of oatmeal before promptly putting it back in the cabinet.

Sherry perked up at this suggestion. Closing her textbook, she followed the redhead into the kitchen area. "How 'bout omelettes?" she asked.

Scrunching her nose in thought, Claire said, "I could try, but I can't promise it'd turn out very good."

Cooking had never interested Claire when her mother was alive. Some days she regretted not taking the time to have her mom teach her. Chris bought a lot of boxed meals and take out. If he wasn't insistent about exercising, they might both be fat.

Crossing her arms, she thought hard about a recipe she felt confident doing. "How about pancakes?"

Sherry nodded in approval and helped the other girl gather the ingredients. Of course their blonde benefactor couldn't order ready to mix pancake batter, so they'd be cooking from scratch. More work, but just as good. Claire rolled up the long sleeves of her shirt and directed Sherry to get the milk and eggs, while she dug around for a pan and spatula. Then, they both measured out the dry ingredients and dumped everything in a large bowl. The redhead left the rest to Sherry as she moved to prepare things on the stove.

"So, did your parents cook breakfast for you very often?" she asked as she twisted the stove knob to start the burner. Setting a pan on the burner, she dropped in some butter to grease it.

Claire had noticed the girl's changing moods when it came to the topic of her parents. While the redhead didn't want to pour salt in Sherry's wounds, she did want to let the girl know she could talk to her.

"Not really," Sherry mumbled as she cracked the eggs over the bowl, not bothering to elaborate further.

Deciding to stop beating around the bush, Claire bluntly said, "You know, if you want to talk about everything that happened with your parents, I'm willing to listen."

Sherry stayed silent for several minutes as she used the wooden spoon to stir the batter. Claire hoped she hadn't pushed the subject too hard. While waiting for the batter, the older girl pulled out plates and utensils.

After Sherry had finished stirring, the young girl finally spoke up. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

Handing the bowl to Claire so she could begin frying the pancakes, Sherry asked, "Why don't _you_ tell me about _your_ parents?"

 _Touche._ Claire sighed in defeat. She supposed that was fair though since she wanted the girl to do the same thing. Sherry had moved to sit on a barstool on the other side of the breakfast bar. The girl exaggerated folding her hands together and pursing her lips in interest. Making a point of letting Claire know exactly what she thought of the older girl poking her nose into sensitive topics. So, after using a ladle to pour the first pancake into the pan, the redhead started talking.

"My mom was- well, this might sound cheesy, but she was amazing and extremely hardworking before she died." Her tone turned soft, filled with reverence. "She just radiated this confidence and warmth that everyone around her couldn't get enough of. Between Chris and her, I never wanted for anything really."

The batter in the pan sizzled as the edges bubbled and browned. Claire used a spatula to carefully lift and flip the pancake before continuing. "She had a way of making people feel important and useful. A passion for helping people, she was kind of my hero. I hope to someday live up to her."

Sherry watched her closely as the other girl smiled in remembrance while she cooked. Claire met the blonde girl's curious gaze. Tracing abstract patterns along the counter, Sherry asked, "What about your dad?"

Her smile fell as Claire looked away from the girl. That question was harder to answer. While Claire tried to think how to answer, the pan began smoking. Cursing, she scrambled to remove the pancake. Tossing the burnt food on one of the plates, the redhead poured more batter in the pan, promising herself to watch this one more closely. She rubbed the back of her neck when she noticed Sherry patiently waiting for her answer. The redhead didn't understand why the girl was so interested in her family.

"I don't remember much about my dad since he left when I was still a baby. Chris was old enough to have memories with him, but he didn't like to talk about him much," she said stiffly. Claire did, however, remember Chris' anger every time she asked about the man, and her mother's sad looks. It was the only subject that seemed to make the woman's bright personality wilt. Eventually she learned to quit asking about her father.

The pair lapsed into silence as Claire finished cooking the rest of the batter. She felt proud that she hadn't burnt any of the rest. As she served two plates, the redhead heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps as Julien walked down the hall. He poked his head in the doorway with a smile.

" _Bonjour mes desmoiselles._ " He greeted them in French causing the two to smile back.*

Julien had a way of slipping into his native tongue when distracted or excited. Today, he seemed to be in an especially good mood. Claire had been worried because the man had acted strangely after their first trip to Paris. Nothing drastic, but she had noticed the man's shoulders tense every time Wesker was near or mentioned. She thought about asking, but figured it might be personal.

Instead, she held up an empty plate and asked, "Hungry?"

Shaking his head, he turned down her offer. "I've just got some paperwork to give Monsieur Wesker. Then, I promised my wife I was hers for the rest of the day," he said happily before disappearing back down the hall. After a few moments, they heard the door in the hall open and shut as Julien went downstairs.

The girls ate their breakfast at the counter. This time they stuck to small talk. They discussed Sherry's studies and their plans for her next day off. Claire personally wanted to go see the Seine River, but Sherry seemed to be interested in the museums. Once they finished, the redhead made Sherry help with the dishes before the girl went to her room to continue studying.

While Claire was wrapping up the leftovers, Julien came back upstairs to say goodbye before leaving. Seeing the man reminded her of Wesker in the basement, working almost constantly. Now that she thought about it, the man never joined them for meals. She only saw him for brief moments in the morning and late at night, if Claire wasn't already in bed. _Maybe he has his own stash of food downstairs._ Still, he always kept the house stocked with groceries for them. It'd be rude to use his food and not offer him any. She debated with herself before finally deciding to fix him a plate.

Hesitantly, she approached the door in the hall. As she stood at the door, she started to doubt herself. He had said not to disturb him when he was down there, but he hadn't mentioned he'd be down there all the time. Honestly though, what did he expect them to do if they needed him? Finding her thinking sound, she went to open the door. The handle wouldn't budge. Jiggling it again, Claire huffed irritable as she realized it was locked. He must really not want to be distracted.

 _'Or he's hiding something,'_ her mind thought traitorously. She couldn't deny the possibility. She'd felt suspicious from the beginning, but right now she and Sherry were dependent on him. Until she found Chris, she needed to precede carefully. Her questions could wait.

Steeling herself, Claire knocked against the door loudly. Hopefully, he could hear it all the way down there. Minutes passed with no response and so she knocked harder. After a moment, she heard the door downstairs open with a heavy hiss, which made her frown. Normal doors didn't sound like that. She could hear his boots climb the steps, slow and methodical.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

She suddenly felt like it was a bad idea to bother him, he'd said so himself. Her heart raced as she debated turning back and hiding down the hall. Out of sight until he went back downstairs. Wesker didn't want distractions, but wasn't it only courteous to offer what she had made? She could politely offer, and it was his prerogative whether to accept or not. Claire sucked in a sharp breath as the door swung open during her inner debate.

_Too late to run._

His presence took up the doorway as he looked down at her with his brows raised and lips in a hard line. During her short time here she'd noticed this expression usually meant he was annoyed and she should say what she needed to quickly. But as she looked up at his face, she froze. Claire had never found another person's gaze so unsettling. His dark glasses hid his eyes from her, but it didn't make his stare any less intense.

For a second, they watched one another as Claire's nerves made her momentarily forget why she was there. She licked her lips and tried to regain her composure. The redhead wasn't used to being the speechless one. She'd always had the upper hand around charmed college boys, but this man's presence intimidated her. She couldn't deny the small thrill at being thrown off her game.

Shaking off her strange thoughts, she thrust the plate awkwardly in front of her. "Thought you might be hungry."

His face twitched like he might smile in amusement at her antics, then he went back to looking annoyed. "I recall telling you not to bother me while I'm working," he said sternly.

"Sherry and I cooked breakfast, thought it was only polite to offer you some," Claire said casually and then remembered something that she had thought of earlier. "Also, if you're downstairs all the time, what are we supposed to do if we need you?"

Claire winced at how nagging she sounded, but it was a legitimate concern. Crossing his arms, he stood in silent contemplation. He always took the time to seriously assess any questions she had, even if he usually made smart comments afterwards.

"I'm not hungry," he said simply before turning as if to head back downstairs, but stopped suddenly. Resting his hand on the doorway, he looked back at her over his shoulder. "And from now on only knock once. I'll hear you so if I don't come up then I'm ignoring you."

The door closed in her face and the redhead sighed. _'Fine, starve for all I care,'_ she thought irritably. Would it kill the man to return her attempts at kindness? Claire headed into the kitchen to wrap the plate for later. As a last second thought, she wrote Wesker's name on top before setting it in the fridge. _Maybe he'll eat it when he isn't busy._

Heading upstairs, she grabbed her toiletries for a quick shower. She needed to decide what she wanted to do next in her search for Chris. None of the places Umbrella had sponsored had any information and the corporate office had yet to get back to her about scheduling an appointment. Not that she really expected them too.

After starting the shower, Claire waited until the steam had warmed the bathroom before undressing and stepping in. She scrubbed her hair in frustration with shampoo as she tried to brainstorm a miracle idea. Julien had helped her a lot by taking her to all the businesses that he knew were affiliated with Umbrella. He seemed eager to help, but always became reserved about the details. Umbrella kept their secrets close and she felt like the French man was doing the same.

A thought struck her, as she lathered the body wash over herself. If Umbrella's people wouldn't tell her anything then perhaps she should bypass them all together. Find a way to get into their system, but that would involve breaking into one of their buildings. It was doubtful Julien or Wesker would agree to the partial plan in her head, but she needed to do something. Even if it meant going against Wesker and ditching her escort.

Shutting off the shower, she grabbed her towel and dried off. Feeling a little lighter now that her search had a new direction, but this time, she would be patient. She'd bide her time and carefully plan things out. Everyone knew she tended to act rashly and the redhead wanted to prove them wrong, just this once. Venturing into her room, she picked up the book she'd bought on the French language. She'd bought it a week ago, determined to improve herself. Claire settled on her bed to spend time polishing her French.

Later, when the girls came down for dinner, Claire noticed the plate with Wesker's food had been eaten, cleaned, and now sat in the dish drainer to dry.


	7. Chapter 7

The lab filled with the sound of scratching, as one of the rats on the island counter frantically tried to escape its cage. It clawed at the bottom for a second before curling in on itself with a pitiful cry. Wesker made notes on the clipboard as he watched the rat's back hunch and then split open as it began to mutate, another failure. He went to the cooling unit and pulled out a new sample vial. This one contained what looked like ordinary blood, but he knew there was a virus hiding inside; within his cells.

Wesker had been injecting the rats with variations of the G-virus strand, hoping to recreate the dormant state of the virus within Sherry's blood. Simply injecting her virus wasn't enough; the mutations were prolonged but still inevitable due to a unique protein in her blood. A new theory had come to him late last night. To perhaps use his own virus' RNA to modify the G-virus, and see how the characteristics of the two might affect a host.

He moved back to the island counter which housed four small rat cages. Two were empty; Wesker had already disposed of the first failures. The new malformed creature lumbered up onto its hind legs after wobbling to the side of the enclosure closest to the only other cage with an occupant. Panicked squeaks came from the normal rat as it backed into the farthest corner of its cage, sensing the danger of the diseased one.

Ignoring the normal rat, Wesker opened the infected one's cage and lifted the creature up with gloved hands. The animal squirmed, trying to nip at him, but couldn't escape the man's tight grasp. With his other hand, he positioned needle and prepared to inject the newest strand. The overhead lights suddenly flashed, bathing everything in red, as an alarm blared. Wesker set down the needle carefully and returned the rat to its cage. Striding to the monitors, he flipped through the different camera feeds impatiently. The sitting room and bedrooms were empty and when he switched to the kitchen camera he found the problem. The lens was obscured with a thick, dark smoke, and he could barely make out a figure in the room. Something was on fire.

Growling, Wesker yanked off his lab coat and roughly opened the doors, wondering what the girls had done. As he moved up the stairs, he could make out Claire's muffled shouts. Throwing open the hallway door, he found the girl rushing down the stairs as she tugged down a tank top she seemed to have just thrown on, her hair still dripping wet from the shower. Her blue eyes looked to him, then down the hall, before she frantically shouted again as she ran for the kitchen.

"Sherry!?"

Coughing answered her as they entered. In front of the stove, Sherry held a cup of water in one hand and waved a pot holder with the other, directing the smoke away from her face. Flames licked up the side of a pot and blackened the edges. The acrid smell of melted plastic permeated the air and the whole room was hazy from the smoke. Noticing her muscles tense, Wesker quickly grabbed her wrist before she could dump the water on the fire. Her eyes bugged at his sudden appearance.

"What started the fire?" Wesker demanded as he towered over her.

The young girl sputtered wordlessly, her eyes red and irritated from the smoke. Wesker released her wrist and Sherry quickly pulled the cup close to her chest. Water spilled over the edge and soaked her shirt. Not waiting for her to find her voice, he opened one of the cabinets and dug around for the baking soda, then dumped the entire box on the stove to smother the flames. From behind him, Claire moved to open the windows, coughing from the tainted air. Sherry had backed away from them with her head bowed, still clutching the cup. Once the smoke started to clear out the windows, Wesker noticed Claire move over to her, placing a hand on Sherry's back as she lowered herself to the girl's eye level.

He could just barely hear her whisper. "Hey, are you okay?"

"She's fine," Wesker said coldly. His eyes turned to the younger girl critically. " _You_ should have known not to use water on a grease fire."

Claire whipped her head up to glare at him, but he held her gaze, refusing to back down. Letting her bangs fall into her eyes, Sherry leaned closer to the redhead.

"Why were you in the kitchen instead of working on your studies?" he asked.

"I thought-I just wanted..." She stammered in distress before erupting into another coughing fit. He watched Claire pat her back with worry written across her face. Wesker waited patiently for her to explain herself. Eventually, she calmed down and spoke hoarsely, her throat sore and irritated from breathing the smoke.

"We're all so busy and hardly meet at the same time. I just thought that maybe if I cooked something everyone would sit down and eat together."

Staying silent, Wesker carefully analyzed Sherry as she shifted her weight in discomfort. The girl had shown signs of substituting Claire and him for the family she'd lost with the way she hung off his every word and clung to Claire's side. It also didn't help that the redhead's careful doting on Sherry had taken on a mothering nature, encouraging the younger girl's behavior. It seemed like the two fed off each other's insecurities to soothe their own hurts.

Even now Claire's gaze had soften, her lips pulled down in a frown to indicate her sympathy. Sherry subconsciously leaned into the older girl's touch, seeking out emotional warmth from Claire's comfort. He needed to find a way to come between them, so that his influence would be the only one Sherry responded to. There was also the chance it could backfire and further reinforce their relationship, but he needed to establish that he had the dominant authority here. Whether they liked it or not. He leveled his eyes with Sherry, who peeked nervously up at him through the hair hanging in her face.

"I expect a perfect score on your next test since you think you have so much extra time," Wesker said with a taut tone. "Otherwise I'll retract your off days."

Claire rose rapidly to her feet in outrage, her chest glistening from her wet hair. "You're being too harsh, Wesker! She lost her parents barely over a month ago, any normal person would feel emotional."

"She's not normal," Wesker said, purposely using a patronizing tone to further rile her up.

He sneered at her as her face contorted in discomfort, obviously thinking of the virus in the girl's blood. Claire needed to realize that her fantasy of Sherry having a normal life was impossible. The girl would have a greater purpose in the grand scheme of things. Emotions flickered across the redheads face before she fell back on her self-righteous anger, an emotion she seemed prone to in their arguments.

Water droplets flung from her hair as she stalked towards him, stopping inches from him. "We didn't come with you so you could constantly talk down to us and order us around."

"Then why did you come here, Miss Redfield?" Wesker asked as he peered down at her haughtily. His deep voice took a mocking edge. "Oh, that's right because otherwise you'd be in jail instead of out looking for your brother."

For a second he saw murder flash across her eyes as she clenched her hands. Amusedly, he noticed her legs tense like she was ready to pounce. Crossing his arms, Wesker smirked tauntingly at her. If she were to attack him, he'd revel in the chance to put her in her place, break that stubborn Redfield will that the siblings seemed to share. For a moment, he even considered removing his sunglasses just to see the fear on her face when she realized who she was really dealing with. His plan came first, though, and revealing himself to her now would be too detrimental.

"Stop, both of you!" Sherry shouted suddenly, her angry voice ringing around them. "I'm sick of you guys always arguing!"

She dropped the cup in her hands angrily and it shattered against the tiled floor. Wesker raised an eyebrow in irritation at her outburst. Her pent up emotions had bubbled to the surface, but acting out wouldn't be tolerated. From in front of him, Claire had flinched and stepped back as if the girl's words were physical blows.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked Sherry, stonily and unamused.

The girl's face slowly turned pink from anger and a wet sheen sprang to her eyes. She tried to glare at him, but after realizing the lack of affect, she huffed and stormed out of the kitchen, glass shards crunching under her shoes. He watched her go, content to let her throw a fit without giving in. Beside him, Wesker noticed Claire openly gaping at him, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Is there a reason you're staring?"

Her eyebrows pulled together as she frowned before saying harshly, "You are _unbelievable_."

Suddenly he wasn't standing in a kitchen anymore, but in the busy police office. Chris Redfield standing in front of him with a defiant look similar to his sister's. The other man had been quick to anger whenever he felt a team member was being slighted or Wesker's orders were too rigid. He'd questioned every order given to him, just like his sister now.

Claire said something else he didn't catch as his mind drew back to the present. Away from the memory her words had triggered from his time in STARS. When her brother had said the exact same words to him. She glared up at him, apparently angry that he wouldn't respond. Turning on her heels, Claire copied the other girl's dramatic exit, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

He listened to her heavy steps up the stairs with a deep frown. Irritated that something as irrelevant as a past memory had taken his focus. Wesker wasn't a man who let trivial things distract him. Observing the smoke-stained walls and burnt remains on the stove, he debated about dragging them both back down to clean up. He had more important things to do.

Wesker was unsurprised when he heard the sound of boots against the broken glass shards, further crushing them onto the floor. Julien had finally decided to show himself. The blonde man had heard the front door open in the middle of their argument and noticed him lingering in the front hall to eavesdrop.

"Women can be quite the handful," the French man said from the kitchen doorway.

Julien gave Wesker a knowing smile as if the two were comrades who shared a secret. An attempt to lighten the air between them. Wesker glowered at the man, unamused by his friendly tactic. Julien subtly shrunk back from him as he noticed the man's deteriorating mood. It was the French man's first try at normalcy around him since the incident in the lab.

"Since you seem to have nothing better to do, make sure this mess gets cleaned up," Wesker said as he indicated the damage from the fire. Julien stood there with in stunned surprise, but didn't try to argue.

Brusquely turning towards the hall, Wesker made his way back to the lab, leaving Julien to his task. He gritted his teeth in frustration as he descended the steps and punched in the passcode on the keypad. Giving him the green light, the lab door unlocked. Everyone seemed to think they could say whatever they wanted to him today. He stepped into the room and picked up his lab coat, ready to shift his mind back to his research. Just as he went to retrieve the altered virus for his experiment, an electronic ping sounded from the computer.

Wesker stalked over to the machine with dark thoughts clouding his mind at being interrupted yet again. He impatiently logged in and clicked open the message. His informant, Jack Bishop, had finally sent another progress report. Eager for good news, he quickly scanned over the document. A smirk tugged at his lips when he finished reading. According to his spy, the Alfred Ashford was trying to secretly ready things for a big reveal of a new version of the T-virus, scheduled to be presented to Umbrella at the beginning of next year.

_Interesting._

Typing up new orders for the man, Wesker planned to make sure Umbrella never got the virus. He'd take it for himself and crush anyone who got in his way.

* * *

 _'That damn egotistical prick,'_ Claire thought as she climbed the steps to the second floor. She roughly pulled her damp hair back into a ponytail. Wesker had no reason for being so hard on Sherry. She was only twelve, for crying out loud. He seemed to have no tact when handling children. Sherry's situation deserved a more delicate touch, not the tough love he'd been initiating. It'd be a miracle if the girl's self-esteem survived.

Approaching Sherry's bedroom door, Claire could hear the girl's soft sobs. Guilt twisted her, this was exactly what she had worried about. She carefully pushed open the door to see Sherry draped across the bed with her face in a pillow. The redhead padded across the room and sat facing the wall with her hands resting between her legs. The mattress springs creaked under her and the blonde girl shifted beside her. It hadn't really been just Wesker's fault, Claire had contributed to the argument.

"Sherry, I'm sorry," she said tentatively, her voice soft with shame over upsetting the girl.

Sherry sat up and sniffled as she used her hands to rub her eyes. Her short blonde hair looked disheveled from throwing herself on the bed.

"It's alright." The girl mumbled and pulled her legs up with her knees tucked under her chin. "I was just really upset over ruining the food. Uncle Albert wouldn't have been as mad if I hadn't set it on fire."

They both fell silent, unsure what to say next. Sherry hiccupped as she got her erratic breathing under control. Her outburst had been more from pent up emotions than anything else. Claire watched as Sherry stared at the wall behind her head, lost in thought. Seconds passed as neither of them said anything.

The young girl's tone was low, barely audible as she voiced her thoughts suddenly. "Right now, I feel so angry and guilty."

Claire straightened up and focused intently on her, feeling like the girl might finally be opening up.

"Over what?" she asked.

"My parents." Sherry's voice trailed off as she hummed in thought before continuing randomly. "You know, the only thing I wanted while growing up was for my family to be normal, but now I don't even have a family."

Her words were laced with sadness and pulled at the redhead's heart strings. Sherry's pain reminded her of the days after her mother's car accident. A ghost of Claire's past pain erupted in her chest, like her heart was being carved out from the inside. The young girl looked up at her with eyes darkened in misery.

"They killed so many people with their work." Her voice rose in anguish as she asked, "Why would they do that?"

The question had been rhetorical, but the girl still searched Claire's face desperately. The redhead had no answer for her. Sherry's eyes showed so much hurt in that moment that Claire felt moved to tears. She wanted to say the right words that could make the girl's pain disappear. In reality nothing she said would change anything, but she had to try.

Gripping her shoulders, Claire held her tightly as she pleaded with the girl to understand. "Sherry, none of that is your fault. You didn't even know what they were doing."

Sherry didn't respond to her words. With dazed eyes, her voice grew soft and distant like she was talking from far away.

"And you know what the worst part is? I don't hate them for any of it," she said with disbelief, like she couldn't understand her own feelings. "I just miss them so much!"

Unsure what else to do, Claire pulled her close, trying to convey her own feelings for the girl in the tight hug. Sherry's eyes refocused and her small arms squeezed Claire back as a tear streaked down her cheek.

Her voice sounded heavy and choked up as she said, "I'm so glad I met you, Claire."

Nodding, Claire mumbled her agreement into the girl's hair. The redhead patted down Sherry's messy hair soothingly to comfort her. After calming down again, Sherry pulled away to rub her face. Regain a little dignity after all the crying. Claire shifted her feet into a more comfortable position and turned to better face the other girl. As she did her foot kicked against something hard. The redhead looked down and noticed Sherry's sketchbook and a couple pencils had been left lying on the floor. Picking it up, she curiously examined the page it had been opened to.

Claire recognized the drawing Sherry had been working on before breakfast the other day. It had developed into a self-portrait of herself and had the outline of two other people in the background; one was obviously female, but had no other distinguishing characteristics. _Was it a drawing of her with her parents?_ Before she could ponder further on the subject, Sherry ripped the sketchbook from her hands and flipped it closed while avoiding the redhead's gaze in embarrassment.

"Please don't look, it isn't finished."

She didn't understand the girl's modesty about her talent, but felt guilty for invading her privacy. Claire quickly apologized and the two elapsed into another awkward silence. Both of them thought about the day's events. Fidgeting with a thread on her pants, the redhead realized what she needed to do to help Sherry's emotional distress. She needed to do her best to make things easier for the girl.

"I'll try to fight less with Wesker," Claire promised, then added under her breath without thinking, "even if he starts most of them."

Having heard her sarcastic comment, the girl's bright eyes bored into Claire's as she came to his defense. "I know he seems cold, but he's really not that bad."

Claire raised one eyebrow at her in disbelief, but she couldn't deny the conviction in the girl's voice. She felt amazed that even with Wesker's strict attitude, Sherry still passionately believed in him. The redhead jokingly wondered if they were talking about the same person.

"I'm serious," Sherry said as she crossed her legs on the bed. "Once, after a good day at work, my mom and dad came home early for dinner. It was actually one of the only family dinners I remember. "

"Anyway, Uncle Albert stopped by on business and my dad convinced him to stay for dinner. He agreed, but looked pretty frustrated about it."

The girl giggled as she obviously relived the memory. Smiling, Claire pictured Wesker's annoyed look in her mind. She could see him drawing his eyebrows together sternly and pinching his mouth closed. His infuriating sunglasses perched on his nose would make it hard to tell what he might be thinking.

 _'I wonder what his eyes look like,'_ she thought spontaneously before the younger girl drew her attention back to the story.

"We all sat together for dinner, just having a good time together." Sherry's eyes grew distant again, but this time her gaze was soft with fondness, only growing sad towards the end. "Afterwards, I knew dad would leave to talk with Uncle Albert, mother would go work in her office and everything would return to normal."

"I wanted to keep my parents' attention as long as possible so I had, uh." Ducking her head in embarrassment, her voice sounded sheepish as she continued. "I forced myself to get sick to make them stay."

Rubbing her back with pity, Claire tried to understand what the Birkins could find more important than their daughter. Sherry was so sweet. _What was so special about a virus that killed people?_ Maybe she couldn't understand because she wasn't a scientist, but the redhead resolved that nothing was worth the neglect that they had shown Sherry.

"My parents seemed concerned, but annoyed," Sherry said and her voice dropped in disappointment. "They rushed off to clean the mess while I laid on the couch. Eventually, Uncle Albert came into the living room. I remember him looking at me with that stern face he always makes when he said, _'Making yourself puke is a rather childish cry for attention'_."

The young girl shifted on the bed and used her hands for emphasis. "I felt so shocked and scared that he knew what I did and would tell my parents. I was almost _actually_ sick from how mad I knew they'd be."

She paused for a second, seemingly to collect her thoughts. "But when my dad came back into the living room, Uncle Albert only said he needed to leave. My dad kept apologizing and saying he was almost done with me, but Uncle Albert said he didn't have the time to wait."

Claire's face twitched, she could imagine Wesker saying something like that in his condescending tone.

"After he left, dad and mom both stayed with me." Sherry said excitedly, her pitch rising as she leaned closer to the other girl. "Uncle Albert knew what I did and instead of telling, he convinced my dad to stay."

The story left Claire uncertain on what to feel. It definitely seemed like Wesker had helped her in his own way, which surprised her and made her wonder if she might have misjudged him. Perhaps her brother's complaints over the man had made her biased, but even Chris had held respect for his blonde captain. As if noticing her uncertainty, Sherry emphasized the importance of her story.

"He helped me, Claire."

Maybe the redhead hadn't tried hard enough to see the good in him. While thinking over Sherry's story, one part jumped out as odd in her mind.

"What kind of business did Wesker have with your dad?"

Sherry glanced down quickly at the floor, her upbeat mood drooping as she mumbled, "I didn't mean _actual_ business. He just came to talk since him and dad were friend."

That did make sense. Even if it was hard for Claire to picture the man being friendly with anyone. She supposed even people with aloof personalities needed the occasional social interaction.

Looking back at Claire earnestly, Sherry said, "That's why I really hate it when you guys fight. You're both special to me."

Claire winced with guilt and promised herself that she'd do what she could to be civil with Wesker. To make sure the girl could have time with the only two people she had left. The older man was just as prone to snide comments, but the redhead planned to do her damnedest to make Wesker cooperate, for Sherry's sake.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asterisks at the end of a sentence means that there are translations at the bottom for any French used.

Red eyes stared back at him from the mirror as Wesker ran the razor along his jaw. The upstairs bathroom still felt humid after his shower. He stood in front of the porcelain sink with his wet hair hanging partially down across his forehead, not yet slicked back; the ends dripped water onto the damp hand towel hanging around his bare shoulders.

It was in mundane moments like this that the man would find himself observing the feline-like pupils. Under normal lights his eyes looked amber due to the golden flecks mixed in, but he had noticed that when his adrenaline spiked his eyes glowed more vibrantly red. They had a rather demonic quality, but served a purpose of intimidation when needed.

Tilting his chin up, Wesker shaved the last patches of stubble on his throat, the blade nicking his skin. Red trailed down his neck as he cleaned the razor under the facet, unconcerned. He used one end of the hand towel to wipe away the blood. Checking in the mirror, he prodded the smooth skin and found no evidence of a cut. His lips turned up slightly in pride.

Tissue regeneration was one of his many new attributes. From his limited testing, he had discovered that the more severe the injury, the longer the healing process took. Little cuts were gone within seconds, but a stab wound down to the bone took almost three minutes. He planned to fix this potential liability using his future research.

His limited healing was easily made up for by his accelerated speed and increased strength. It was unlikely anyone would get close enough to injury him and take advantage of his slow healing time. They could try, but they'd be in for one hell of a fight which would be more likely to turn into a massacre.

After applying gel to his wet hair, he deftly combed his hair back and slid his sunglasses into place. Wesker had decided to take a break from his research after receiving an email from his lead soldier in the Host Capture Force. The team of specialized soldiers personally recruited by him had assembled together, awaiting his orders of when to move. Now all he needed was Bishop to report back with the location of Alfred Ashford's secret research and his plan would finally be in motion.

Sliding on his black button-up shirt, Wesker quickly clasped the buttons. Flicking off the light, the blonde man opened the door and walked out into the hall. He folded up the sleeves to his elbows, making sure the edges stayed crisp and smooth, as he descended the stairs in the dark.

Another enhancement from the virus in his body was night vision, even with his sunglasses. He had theorized that the cones and rods in his eyes had evolved in a way they could both detect color and work without light. Reaching the ground floor, he noticed light pouring out from the kitchen. Someone was awake before him. Taking silent steps, he peered into the kitchen from the shadows.

At the breakfast bar sat his redheaded guest, nursing a cup of coffee. Her eyes were pinched from exhaustion, apparently not ready to be awake yet. She typically wasn't up this early in the morning. No one in the house, but him usually was awake. That's why he took the extra minutes to drink his coffee in the pleasant silence before going down to the lab. He stepped out of the doorway announcing his presence with his heavy steps.

Noticing him, Claire visibly straightened and widened her eyes to appear more awake. She gave him a nervous smile.

"Morning," she said while lifting her cup up. "I already made a pot of coffee if you want some."

 _There went his quiet morning._ He said nothing as he retrieved a coffee cup and moved to pour himself a drink. Yesterday's morning paper sat on the counter and he grabbed it on his way back out of the kitchen. Even without glancing at her, he could feel Claire's gaze following him over the rim of her cup.

Wesker sipped at his own drink and decided to read the paper in the sitting room. As he moved down the hall, he heard the scrapping of the barstool being slid back. Entering the room, he sat in one of two gray armchairs positioned in front of the fireplace, a glass coffee table between them. His coffee cup clinked against the glass as he set it on the table and flipped open the French newspaper.

Minutes passed as Wesker skimmed over the articles, searching for anything relevant to him. He ignored Claire's presence as she stood uncertainly in the doorway, debating something in her head.

"Do you plan on hovering in the door way all morning?" Wesker asked suddenly without looking up.

Claire jolted from her thoughts with a quick ' _no_ ,' as she moved into the room. She lowered herself into the chair beside him and swiped the bronze horse statue off the coffee table. It had been some trinket the girls had picked up on one of their outings. They'd scattered similar things in various other areas of the house. He briefly wondered what value the girls found in decorating a house they'd only temporarily reside in. His plan would be fulfilled by the end of the year, in just a little over a month, and he'd be moving on. Not that he'd told them that, but she couldn't expect the search for her brother to last too much longer. The blonde man watched her from the corner of his eye as she glanced over at him and opened her mouth as if to speak, only to close it.

"Do you think the gun stashes in the bedroom are really necessary?" Claire asked suddenly as she fidgeted with one of the statue's hooves.

"Julien told you they're for protection," Wesker said as he lowered the newspaper and leveled his gaze completely on her. "After your run-in with Umbrella the other day, I would have thought you already understood exactly how necessary they are."

She blew out a breath and said, "True."

He watched her with renewed interest as she stood suddenly and walked in front of the unlit fireplace. The girl set the statue down on the mantlepiece and ran her hand absently across the surface. Light from the sunrise began filtering in through the window, lighting up her blue eyes as she turned to him curiously.

"How many little secret compartments like that are in the house?"

Wesker folded up the paper in his hands as he answered her. "One in each bedroom and two on the ground floor."

He didn't mention, however, his own personal weapons down in the lab. Setting the paper on the coffee table, Wesker picked his coffee cup back up and sipped at the warm liquid while Claire hummed in thought. _What did the girl want?_ They'd shared the same living quarters for several weeks now and the man had noticed a lot about her personality and habits. He could say confidently that while she easily became suspicious of people's actions, not much made her act openly nervous. His mind suddenly conjured up the morning Claire had offered him breakfast and he realized that she did in fact act occasionally nervous in his presence. The redhead licked her lips as she suddenly squared her shoulders, masking herself with false bravado.

"You know, there's this neat little cafe in Paris that serves some great coffee," she said with a scripted casualness.

 _Was she asking him to go?_ Wesker dissected her possible motives in his mind, wondering what she hoped to gain from this. Within seconds he concluded it had to do with Sherry's emotional outburst the day before. _She must be wanting to fulfill the girl's desire for them to have a civil gathering._

"No," Wesker said, interrupting her before she could ask what he knew she would. He picked the newspaper back up to continue reading.

"What?" she asked with disbelief.

"You're going to ask if I'd go there with you and Sherry," Wesker said. "The answer is no. I'm much too busy."

Her fists clenched as she pressed her lips tightly together, making a visible effort not to retort with her temper. She must have took Sherry's words to heart, making an effort even when the younger girl wasn't present. One could admire her loyalty and yet also find it foolish. Claire quickly turned to face him with her face scrunched in displeasure.

"What has got you so busy that you can't take some time off?" she asked.

Wesker sat the paper back down again and folded his hands across his lap, openly analyzing her. Curious to see how long she'd control herself. She smoothed her agitated expression into a strained smile.

"What I mean is, Sherry would really enjoy it if we all did something together," Claire said with forced friendliness.

The blonde man smirked as he subtly goaded her. "The answer is still no, and I assure you what I am working on will put Umbrella out of business. Stopping _them_ just like you wanted."

What she didn't realize was he was more likely to take over Umbrella's operations afterwards. Then, he'd establish himself as a dominant power in the industry. Claire raised one eyebrow at him, her voice overdramatized as she referenced his words from the library.

"I thought you cared about what was best for Sherry. You know, since it's what _you_ said her father would want."

Her energy lifted from what she perceived as a victory. Wesker's smirk faded as he watched her in a frosty silence. His amusement had vanished and he felt less than compliant. Sensing his displeasure, Claire sighed, looking fed up with the conversation.

"Look, it's still early, can't you just take some time to think about it?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Wesker said lowly.

Claire didn't say anything, only frowned and left the room. The sitting room fell quiet after her steps had receded up the stairs. Wesker finished his coffee, deep in thought over his tasks for the day. _Time to get back to work._ Picking up his coffee cup, he tucked the newspaper under his arm as he stood and walked out into the hall.

As he passed the front door, it swung open with the arrival of Julien. The Frenchman greeted him in surprise, not expecting someone to be so close to the door. Wesker nodded at him as he continued to the kitchen; Julien trailed behind him. Moving towards the sink, he set the paper back on the counter before washing his cup. The other man's footsteps had stalled by the dining room table as he shifted from foot to foot.

"There's something I think you'd want to know," Julien said while adjusting his jacket.

Wesker turned his head partially to him as he rinsed the soap off the cup, indicating for him to continue.

His eyes focused on a spot behind the blonde man's head as he said, "The Organization is throwing a party tonight under the guise of a company fundraiser."

 _This was news to him._ Wesker roughly set the dish in the drainer and turned his body fully towards Julien.

"Why am I just now hearing about this, Dubois?" he demanded, causing the other man to flinch.

"Well, it's usually only employees of the French division who attend. It was kept quiet because the chairman is attending and many of us hope to get ahead by gaining his favor. We wanted less competition from other branches," Julien said quickly.

Wesker's eyebrows pulled together in thought as he processed the man's words, this would be an excellent opportunity. He could bring Sherry before the chairman, let him see the subject aiding his research.

"I told you in time for you to attend, it's not until eight this evening," Julien said as he raised his hands in a placating manner, unaware of the other man's inner thoughts on the opportunity.

The sound of voices carried down the hall to them, moments before two sets of soft footsteps approached. Wesker shot Julien a dark look, but said nothing. Seconds later, Claire came into view followed by Sherry, who carried her sketch book and a set of pencils. They came to a stop in the doorway and the redhead's insightful gaze bounced between him and Julien.

"Everything all right?" she asked slowly.

Julien swallowed nervously, but forced a reassuring smile for her. Wesker crossed his arms as he leaned back against the counter.

"Looks like you'll get what you want after all, Miss Redfield," he said. "Dubois has just _graciously_ invited us to a company fundraiser."

Both girls looked to Julien, who nodded in agreement as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Sherry took a seat at the table and flipped open her book, unafraid to draw in front of Wesker on her day off. Claire walked over to the kitchen side and reached around Wesker to open the cabinet. He stepped aside to allow her more room.

"That's great, I guess," the redhead said as she pulled down a glass cup.

Wesker looked across the breakfast bar at Sherry, who was tuning out the conversation to draw. The girl had quite a passion for artwork it seemed, though he found the hobby useless. He had already given her a warning about letting it distract her though, so he saw no harm in letting her continue in her free time. Glancing down at his watch, he noted the time and straightened from the counter.

"Sherry, you'll wear one of the black jumpers with a white blouse." Wesker said, leaving no room for arguments.

Her hand paused long enough for her to glance up and nod her head before returning to her art. The fridge opened as Claire pulled a bottle of orange juice out and moved back to the counter to pour a drink.

Tilting her head to the side, Claire looked to Julien as she asked, "Does the party have a dress code?"

"It's- how do you say," Julien said while searching his mind for the English translation. Then he snapped his fingers when he remembered. "Business-formal."

From beside him, Claire bobbed her head in understanding while she drank her juice. Wesker glanced over her casual shirt and jeans, clothes that definitely wouldn't work for the party.  
"Do you own more appropriate clothing?" he asked the redhead.

Claire looked down at her outfit as she said, "I only brought stuff like this with me."

 _Of course she did._ He could buy her an outfit so she didn't show up as his guest under dressed. At least he could charge the new clothes on company credit. Wesker could even send Julien to take her so he could work alone in the lab. Julien cleared his throat and broke him from his deliberations.

"My wife is close to her size, she might have something Claire can wear," he said.

"That'll have to work," the blonde man said disinterestedly, still getting what he wanted with this solution.

"Just so you know, I refuse to wear a dress," Claire said adamantly. "Or heels for that matter."

Wesker was about to tell her that she'd wear what she was given, but the Frenchman stepped forward with a sidelong look at him.

"I'm sure my wife has something that'll be to your liking," Julien said hastily. "In fact, we can leave now if you two are ready."

Sherry's stomach growled while he was talking and she blushed, sinking into her seat. Claire laughed softly before saying, "Well, we were going to make some breakfast, but after that we can go."

Julien nodded and offered to help them cook. _The man obviously wanted to escape his company._ Wesker watched the trio proceed down the hall into the kitchen before he turned and headed for the basement stairs. He might as well use the time before the party on his research. He was also expecting a progress report today from Ada Wong. The woman had mentioned briefly in their video conference about a promising lead into Chris Redfield's location. When the time came, he'd be able to lure the older Redfield right into his trap.

* * *

The girls stood gaping on the front lawn of Julien's house. They'd left the house ten minutes before for what Claire expected to be a drive back into the city. Instead, she was surprised to find that Julien and his wife only lived a couple of miles away. The Frenchman had grinned at their surprised faces as he told them that the house they currently stayed in was also a part of his property.

Julien's house had only one floor but extended far back into the woods. The manicured lawn and garden were all well maintained. Claire couldn't help but notice the stark difference in upkeep between the two homes. It wasn't the size of his home or the refined landscape that had shocked the girls, but that the whole front of the house was a clear glass wall. They could easily see the furniture in their living and dining rooms. The side walls of the house were white stucco and prevented them from peering into the rooms farther back. Julien mistook their shock as admiration.

"Perks of the job," he said with a smile before ushering them forward.

The group followed the stone walkway up to his black metal door. The point of having an opaque door when the walls were see-through was lost on the redhead.

"Why is that wall made of glass?" Sherry asked while giving him a strange look with her sketchbook held tightly against her chest.

Claire giggled at her tone, which sounded like the girl thought he was crazy for his choice in architecture. Her question also made the Frenchman chuckle in amusement as he opened the door for them.

While gesturing them to walk in, Julien answered Sherry's question good-naturedly. "My wife, Adelia, likes the view and all the natural light. It's also rather nice on rainy days."

They stepped into a lavish living room and observed the bright decor as Julien shut the door behind them. Sherry wandered over to an abstract metal statue, its surface shined in the morning light. The girl observed its twisted angles for a second before glancing around to take in the various pieces of artwork around the room. Claire stayed close to the door as the Frenchman moved to deposit his keys on a glass end table beside the couch.

"Honey, is that you?" a female's slurred voice asked from the back of the house.

A middle-aged woman stepped around the corner and stopped in surprise when she noticed them. She wore a pink silk nightgown with matching slippers and had the body of a super model. However, the girls found their attention drawn to her face. Half of her face seemed to droop down wards, as if her muscles couldn't hold up one end of her lips or eyelid.

Uncomfortable from their staring, the woman tugged nervously at the ends of her dark curly hair as she addressed Julien. "Oh, you brought company."

He rushed to her side, pressing gently on his wife Adelia's shoulder to steer her back the way she came. " _ChÃ©ri_ , you shouldn't be up right now. You need to rest your muscles for the party."*

"Quit fussing, I'm fine," Adelia said as she pushed his hands off her shoulder.

She walked around Julien to get a good look at the girls. Suddenly, her face broke out in a lopsided smile as she approached Claire, grasping the redhead's hands like they were old friends. The redhead looked away and shared a look with Sherry. Both of them found Adelia's behavior strange.

"Nice to finally meet you, Claire," the woman said gushingly before answering her unspoken question of how she knew them. "Oh, my husband has told me a little about you."

Her speech had grown progressively harder to understand as Claire struggled to follow her words. Adelia stepped back apologetically as her jaw muscles twitched from her trying to use them. Julien stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder again as he noticed the girls' uneasy expressions.

"I'm sorry, please give my wife a second. She's ill and talking wears out her muscles quickly," he said as an explanation.

Both girls nodded in understanding. Claire wondered momentarily what illness his wife had, but felt it might be rude to ask. Wanting to give them privacy, she and Sherry walked further into the living room to observe the paintings hanging on the white wall. They walked languidly around the room; paintings hung equally spaced along the surface of each wall except the glass one. Claire felt unsettled by the large number depicting gruesome scenes. The dark images seemed odd in the otherwise vivid house.

After a couple minutes of rest, Adelia followed after them, leaving Julien standing alone. She watched as Claire browsed over the paintings before walking to Sherry's side to see which piece had caught her interest. The young girl had stood observing one for several minutes now.

" _The Trench Warfare by Otto Dix_ ," Adelia said, her voice back to a light monotonous slur. "Interesting that it has caught your attention."

The redhead moved over to them, trying to glance at the one they were talking about. She frowned. The painting illustrated a land in ruins with dark clouds that cast shadows over a pile of dead bodies. One lone gas mask was left atop a pile of rubble. Sherry tore her gaze from the image to the woman with interest, but she made no reply.

Having gained the girl's focus, Adelia extended out her hand while saying, "You must be Sherry."

The blonde girl nodded and shook her hand meekly. The woman held Sherry's hand a little longer than necessary before allowing her to pull back. Adelia's brown eyes crinkled with warmth as she looked over Sherry's outfit.

"Those are some very nice clothes you have, are they for tonight?" the woman asked and Sherry answered with a quick nod.

"Let me get a good look." Adelia grinned the best she could, with one end of her lips drooped lower, before she suggested playfully, "I know, why don't you do a twirl like a ballerina?"

Sherry glanced at Claire uncertainly. The redhead thought the request was strange, but saw no harm in playing along. Giving Sherry the go ahead, Claire watched as the young girl stiffly spun on her toes. The black skirt billowed out around her like a flower. Adelia clapped her hands as Sherry came to a stop, the skirt twisting around her thighs from leftover momentum.

"Bravo!" Adelia said excitedly.

The blonde girl gave a small, polite smile as she returned to Claire's side. One of Adelia's eyelids drooped closed as Julien walked up beside her.

"Now, now, they're not here to entertain you, Claire just needed to borrow some clothes for the party tonight," Julien said as he patted her arm affectionately.

Adelia hummed in thought after this, taking a moment to rest her facial muscles. She suddenly clapped her hands together before beckoning the girls to follow as she said, "I've got a few things that'd look to die for on you!"

They followed Adelia as she disappeared through the doorway. The shrill ring of a phone sounded as they moved to the back of the house, and Julien quickly excused himself to go answer it. His wife led them to the back of the house into her bedroom. Her room was huge, with a king sized bed, dressers, and chairs to sit in. Though the space felt cramped, with clothes and accessories scattered over everything. The dark haired woman picked up a jade-colored suit jacket and draped it over her arm. She tried to smile at them sheepishly, embarrassed about the mess.

The woman moved to dig through various other piles of clothes while Claire's eyes were drawn to the object that stuck out in the room. A medical ventilator fitted with tubes and wires hooked up along one side of the bed. An IV pole stood next it with a night stand clutter with medications. It seemed Julien's wife was sick enough to need at home emergency treatment.

Hands on her arm broke Claire from her visual snooping as Adelia pulled her towards an oriental folding screen on the other side of the room. Pushing her behind it, the older woman hung clothes across the top of the screen with orders for her to try it on. The redhead peeked back around to check on Sherry, who had cleared off one of the chairs so she could sit and work on one of her sketches. Adelia sat not far off from the girl, her eyes drooping as she took another moment to rest.

Ducking back around the screen, Claire lifted the clothes off the screen. Adelia had handed her the jade suit jacket, a white button-up blouse and matching jade pencil skirt. The material felt silky and she noted the designer brand with wide eyes, Julien's job apparently had a lot of perks. Holding the skirt up against her, the redhead gazed down at it uncertainly. While it would look cute, the skirt would be much too tight and would make it hard to move quickly.

"I really didn't want to wear a skirt tonight," Claire said hesitantly, not wanting to offend the woman's good will.

"Why? You have such nice legs?" Adelia asked, her voice muffled by the screen.

"Not enough mobility." Claire answered honestly before asking, "You have anything with pants?"

"Hmm, I think I have something," she said before asking the redhead to wait a moment.

A couple of minutes passed as Claire listened to the sounds of rustling clothes and opening drawers, before a navy pantsuit was tossed over the top. The redhead hung the jade suit jacket and skirt, keeping the white blouse, before pulling down the navy set. It was another top brand that felt smooth against her fingers. Already wearing the blouse, Claire wiggled the slacks up her legs then slid her arms in the jacket.

She stepped out from behind the screen to show the other two. Sherry hadn't noticed her as she continued drawing, but Adelia looked up and gave her a pleased smile. The redhead's eyes couldn't look away as she watched the woman's eyebrow sag towards her eye as if its weight was too heavy to hold up. Adelia cleared her throat to get her attention, letting Claire know she'd been caught staring.

The redhead quickly asked the first question that came to mind, "How long have you and Julien been married?"

"Twenty years full of love and hardships, but I think what you really want to ask is 'What are you sick with?'" Adelia said bitterly.

Claire felt her face flush in embarrassment as she muttered an apology.

"The medical term is _Myasthenia Gravis_ , which basically means my muscles don't always work right and wear out easily," she said clinically, her slurring increasing as she continued. "It's an autoimmune disease with no known cures, but has plenty of temporary treatments for the symptoms."

Adelia stopped to rest for a moment, her breathing came out forceful and ragged. From her chair, Sherry had stopped sketching and watched the oldest woman with concern. Claire shifted her weight from foot to foot as she debated about getting Julien to come check on his wife.

"The equipment beside the bed is for if I go into crisis because my breathing muscles have become too weak." she said this monotonously, but with a sad smile. Her condition was making it hard to change the pitch of her voice.

"Some days the symptoms are worse than others, and I'm lucky to have a loving husband who's dedicated his career to finding me a cure." The woman looked away as she spoke. "I don't want to live like this."

 _'Maybe that was the research project Julien and Wesker had been working on_ ,' Claire thought. It made sense to her because Julien's devotion to his wife was evident. That still didn't explain how Wesker was involved. The redhead pitied the woman before her and hoped a cure was found soon.

"You and your husband seem to have a very close relationship," Claire said conversationally.

"Yes, well he's been there for me since before my diagnosis," she said with a soft look in her eyes. "We met in Belize, my home country, he was there on a research trip."

Her smile drooped as she continued as if lost in thought. "Julien and I have no secrets between us. We tell each other everything, even the things I wish I didn't know."

Before Claire could question her about what she meant, the woman was smiling again and had turned away to look at Sherry's drawing. Walking up beside the girl's chair, the redhead also peaked over her shoulder to see.

The book was pulled out of sight as Sherry moved it away and said, "Guys, you're making it hard to concentrate."

Adelia laughed as she moved back. Claire did the same while saying, "Sorry."

"So is your husband only researching your disease or is he working on other projects?" Claire asked, hoping to get some insight on the work the men had been so tight lipped about.

"Julien told me you were looking for your missing brother," Adelia said as she braced her forearms on her knees so she could lean forward. "Take my advice and when you find him, leave this world while you can. It's better to stay ignorant because when you get too involved with the darker parts of life there is no turning back."

"It's probably too late for that now," Claire said softly, thinking of all the things she'd already discovered.

She suddenly smoothed the blouse with her hand and asked, "I like this one, what do you guys think?"

"I would have to agree," Adelia said while turning to Sherry, who had remained silent through most of the conversation.

"I like it, Claire," she said as she shut the sketchbook and looked over the outfit.

The redhead went back behind the oriental screen to change back into her original clothes. Coming back around fully dressed, she was handed a bag with the outfit neatly folded inside from Adelia. The redhead smiled appreciatively, starting to feel excited for the party. A chance to go out and meet new people. Guilt gnawed at her over the idea of wanting to have fun when her brother was missing. She pushed it to the back of her mind.

"Thanks, Adelia. I appreciate you letting me borrow this. I hadn't expected I would need formal clothes."

Adelia nodded slowly to accept Claire's thanks as she slumped down on her bed. Her chin dropped to touch her chest as if her neck couldn't hold her head up anymore. The girls watched as her breaths came quick and shallow. Calling out to her, Claire swallowed uncertainly when the woman didn't respond. Beckoning Sherry forward, the girl set her sketchbook in her seat as she stood and quickly left the room to find Julien. Her panicked voice echoed around the house as she yelled for him.

Moving to sit beside her, Claire placed a hand on her back as she bent over to see her face. Adelia's eyes watered as she stared down at her chest and her muscles trembled. The redhead's mind raced, unsure what to do. She looked up towards the door, hoping Julien came quickly. As if on cue, the man came rushing through the door with Sherry close behind him. His face looked strangely calm, but urgent. Claire retreated from the bed to stand beside Sherry as Julien looked after his wife.

He eased her down gently onto the bed, whispering reassurance to her as he moved her into a resting position. Her chest rose in quick short bursts as he smoothed the hair back from her face. The girls awkwardly stood there feeling both worried and uncomfortable. Julien stood beside the bed holding her hand for several minutes until her breathing regulated back into a normal pace and her eyes drooped closed. He turned to the girls and ushered them out of the bedroom.

"We'll head back to the house to wait until the party, my wife needs to rest," Julien said.

They moved back down the hall, urged forward by Julien, giving Adelia some privacy. Sherry bumped into Claire's side as she tried to walk and glance back towards the bedroom. The redhead placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her balanced as the girl moved back towards Julien.

Sherry tugged on the Frenchman's sleeve as she asked with wide eyes, "Will Adelia be alright?"

Julien smiled sadly as he patted the top of her head, thinking of how to word his reply. The redhead had been wondering the same thing, after the episode they'd just witnessed Claire wasn't sure it'd be safe for her to attend the party. Then again, she wasn't a doctor and if anyone knew best it'd be her and her husband.

Julien sighed deeply as he answered. "Yes, once her muscles rest a little more she'll be feeling much better."

He led them to the door, but hesitated from stepping outside. The man glanced back to his bedroom nervously before handing Claire the keys to the car. He dashed back to his wife quickly after saying he was going to check on her one more time. The redhead lead the way out the door and back down the walkway to the car. Sherry trailed behind her, seemingly deep in thought about something.

"It's really sad that there's no cure for her," she said suddenly while Claire unlocked the sedan.

Opening the door for her, Claire waited until the young girl had climbed in before sliding in next to her. The redhead stretched over the center console to put the key in the ignition and start the car. Dropping back into her own seat, Claire waited until they had both buckled their seatbelts before replying to her earlier statement.

"I'm sure scientists will find a cure one day." They were empty words of reassurance, but a possibility none the less.

It was Sherry's next words that left her feeling speechless. "Scientists like my parents?"

Just the other day she felt guilty over their actions, but now Sherry wanted to compare them to medical scientists. Maybe the girl was trying to find a glimmer of hope in the older Birkins' dark actions, but Claire felt there was a distinct difference between two professions. Before she could voice her thoughts, Julien popped open the driver's door with an apologetic smile. He pulled Sherry's attention away from her as he hand back the painting Sherry had been admiring earlier.

"A present from my wife. She said you'd appreciate its artistic value more than her," he said in explanation of the sudden gift.

The young girl cradled the morbid piece excitedly in her hands, looking to Claire with awe in her eyes. The artwork must have been worth a pretty penny and the fact they felt comfortable simply giving it away amazed the redhead. Even with her private reservations, Claire smiled happily at Sherry, not wanting to dampen their enthusiasm. Julien turned forward in his seat, ready to drive them back to wait until the party.

* * *

The sound of chatter accented by the orchestra band seeped out of the _Le Palais des CongrÃ¨s de Paris_ , known for its unique blank architecture and amphitheater. People moved in and out of the building with a festive excitement, but Wesker knew they each held their own agenda for the night. He stood on the sidewalk dressed in a simple black suit, waiting for the girls to climb out of the car so the chauffer could take the vehicle. Julien and his wife stood a little ways ahead, waiting after arriving before them. Claire and Sherry walked up to the sidewalk, arm in arm while giggling about something one of them had said.

As his vehicle was driven off, Wesker turned towards the building, eager to meet with the chairman. Behind him the others' steps hit the pavement as they followed him like sheep to a shepherd. They walked up the steps together and entered into the entrance hall of the building. The wide entrance was essentially a waiting room with benches and decorations lining the wall. On the opposite side from the entrance there were two branching halls and large glass doors for the theater. Guests chattered all around them and they followed the crowd down a hall to one of the banquet rooms.

A roar of voices met them as they entered the dimly lit room. Formally dressed men and woman were packed together, employees of the Organization and their guests. Waiters weaved between the bodies carrying platters of food or drink above their head. Set on a platform at the back of the party were elegantly dressed musicians providing the evening's background music.

At the door a uniformed man took their jackets, Wesker skirted around the crowd looking for a spot against the wall that had a good vantage of the whole party. The sooner he found the chairman the better. He walked right past any low-level employee who greeted him, disinterested in mingling with his peers. Julien and Adelia followed close behind them, used to such events, but the two girls lingered behind, mesmerized by all the action around them.

Wesker spotted Michael Ramos, chairman of the Organization, not far off, surrounded by a group of competitive scientists, eager to catch his attention. The older man had a head full of gray hair and stood confidently in his high dollar suit. His glazed expression expressed exactly what he thought of the people around him. Not long after Wesker had noticed him, Ramo's dark eyes looked up and spotted their group. Breaking away from his current conversation, the chairman approached eagerly. The disgruntled researches left in his wake glared jealously at them.

"Ah, if it isn't Albert Wesker," the chairman said with a polite smile.

"Mister Ramos," Wesker said as he inclined his head in greeting.

He greeted Julien next with a handshake before turning the three girls who had moved to each other's side. "And who are all these lovely ladies?"

" _This_ is Sherry Birkin," Wesker said with emphasis while beckoning her forward.

Ramo's eye's crinkled in delight. "Well hello little lady, I heard a bit about you."

He grasped her hand gently, leaning forward to place a kiss on her knuckles. Sherry's face slowly turned red. Once the man straightened, she quickly pulled back her hand and scrambled to the redhead's side. Claire gave her a reassuring smile as she patted her shoulder. The chairman chuckled loudly at her reaction before focusing on Julien and his wife.

"This is my wife, A-" Julien started to say, but was interrupted.

Adelia thrust out her hand to the chairman and said, "Adelia Dubois."

Ramos grasped her hand like he had Sherry's, again placing a kiss on her knuckles. Withdrawing her hand, she stepped back to her husband's side. The chairman then swept his gaze over to Claire. The girl smiled pleasantly, but Wesker quickly placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her from stepping forward. The redhead looked up at him as if to say, _'what the hell are you doing'_.

"This is my guest, Claire," Wesker said, intentionally omitting the last name as he introduced her.

She brows raised in surprise, wondering why he had used her first name. He gave Claire's shoulder a quick squeeze to warn her not to say anything. Claire tugged herself from his grasp irritably, but played along and kept quiet. The last thing Wesker needed was the chairman knowing Claire was related to the Redfield whose actions was giving the man anxiety. Ramos would be sure to step in with his own agenda and throw off Wesker's plans if he knew.

"Nice to meet you," Claire said pleasantly and the chairman voiced his agreement.

"You've brought such beautiful company to the party tonight." The chairman smiled as he spoke to the two men, then turned to the girls. "I hope you ladies enjoy your evening."

Ramos turned to leave, but Wesker stepped up beside him, blocking his way. The chairman glanced up at him with a bushy eyebrow raised.

" _Je voulais discuter de mon rapport precedent_ ," Wesker said in French, hoping to talk business while he had the man's attention.

He'd spoken in French to prevent the girls from eavesdropping, but Claire's gaze seemed intense on the chairman. Her attention hyper-focused on the conversation. Perhaps he'd misjudged her abilities. The chairman followed his gaze to Claire, who quickly looked away as she realized she'd been caught. Ramos understood the situation and patted Wesker's shoulder with a simple, _'We'll discuss it later'_. He turned to Claire with a sly grin.

"Does Mr. Wesker always wear his sunglasses at night and in buildings?" The chairman asked her as he nudged an unamused Wesker.

Claire laughed and cupped a hand around her mouth with a staged whisper. "As far as I can tell he never takes them off."

Across from him, the rest of their group giggled while trying to politely hide their amusement at his expense. The blonde man crossed his arms as he watched Ramos and Claire talking. After the joke had died away, the redhead's face turned serious as she spoke to the chairman.

"So I was wondering, how exactly are you working to stop Umbrella?"

The chairman regarded her with interest as he considered her question. Ramos felt surprised that she'd want to talk business at a party. Wesker immediately turned his head to Julien, signaling him to intervene. The Frenchman leaned down and whispered into his wife's ear. Adelia latched on to Claire's arm, startling the girl and interrupting her conversation with the chairman.

"Oh I have just got to introduce you to Madame Morel," she said, her words slurred a little worse than normal. Adelia tugged her into the crowd, leaving the men to their discussion.

Wesker watched Julien follow after his wife as the girls mingled in the crowd. Beside him the chairman had stopped a passing waiter for glasses of champagne. The man handed one to him before grabbing one for himself. Wesker politely took the glass, but didn't drink it, wanting to keep his mind sharp. The chairman sipped at the sparkling liquid, his face somber as he switched the topic to business.

"So I take it that little girl is the one you reported with the virus?"

While swirling the liquid around slowly in his glass, Wesker said, "Yes, and as I'm sure you read from my report the virus will render promising results."

"And this other woman, is she really just your guest tonight?" the chairman asked as he tilted his glass towards where Claire had disappeared moments before.

"Of course," he said smoothly.

"Hmm," Ramos said in thought, not completely swallowing Wesker's lie. "Just keep in mind that you don't forget who runs things here."

He took another sip of champagne before excusing himself to go finish greeting the guests. The blonde man glowered at his retreating form after Ramo's parting words. Soon, the chairman would be the one forced to remember who was in charge. With his main objective complete, he scanned the crowd for the group he'd arrived with. Julien and Adelia were easy to spot as they swayed together with the music, ignoring the glances around them. Wesker felt surprised to spot the top of Claire's head mingled in with the largest socializing group in the room. Predictably, Sherry was close by and stayed stubbornly by the redhead's side, even as the group around them increased.

He watched Claire as she talked animatedly with a group of party guests. Her audience seemed enraptured by her every word, caught up in the bright personality before them. The redhead seemed to flourish in a group, comfortable in an environment she was familiar with. He doubted she'd look quite so happy if she knew what these people actually did for a living. From the way some of the guests were looking at her, Wesker had to admit that if she had the desire, Claire could probably have them all eating out of the palm of her hand. Given the right ambitions, she could work her way into power.

Suddenly, her eyes glanced up, away from all the people around her, and stopped on him. Her blue eyes glowed bright as they settled on him. Catching his watchful gaze, she quirked an eyebrow to him. He smirked unabashedly and raised his untouched champagne glass at her in a toast. Not even bothering to hide that he had been watching. He chuckled lowly in amusement when she glanced away quickly, her face and neck flushed pink.

"Teasing the poor girl?" Julien said jokingly, as he approached Wesker after having left his wife's side.

Wesker glanced at him, but remain silent as he set his untouched drink on the tray of a passing waiter. Guests moved back and forth between each other, looking for chances to further their own goals. Occasionally someone would look his way furtively, but no one had yet approached. He didn't bother to socialize, finding no one beside the chairman worth his time.

His eyes moved over the crowd and focused on Sherry, who lingered near Claire. The group of people around her earlier had dispersed, leaving the redhead alone to talk with Julien's wife. Claire leaned forward to whisper something in Adelia's ear before departing through the crowd towards the bathroom. Wesker noticed she had left Sherry behind with Adelia, who moved closer to the girl on trembling legs.

"It seems some of your wife's symptoms have gotten worse since the last medical report you filed," Wesker said as he monitored the crowd of people closest to them, making sure no one was paying them too much attention.

"It seems so," Julien said as he tipped his head back, draining the champagne glass before continuing. "After all these years the best I can do is stall the symptoms. I've proven no better than a common doctor."

The blonde man kept his attention on Sherry as he spoke. "This research with the G-virus could very well lead to a cure for your wife's disease."

"I know, I've been reviewing your notes on the virus' properties and I am very interested in how it repairs itself and the host cell," Julien replied.

"Yes, now imagine if we could give the virus a signal to repair the antibodies attacking her cells. Then your wife's muscle would stop weakening." He moved closer to Julien while making sure no party stragglers were close by. "I have many plans for this virus, besides simply curing one disease, but it can be done if certain conditions are met."

The other man frowned and arched his eyebrows as he asked quietly, "Conditions?"

"I need your cooperation and possible employment when future plans of mine are put into action," Wesker said lowly as he glanced down at the man intently.

"What you're really asking is for me to take your side when you pull a coup within the Organization, right?" Julien said while bitterly chuckling, "I think we both know I don't really have a choice in the matter."

Wesker smirked as he replied ominously. "Oh you do have a choice, but one has more disastrous results for you and your wife than the other."

Many people suddenly gasped as the sound of shattering glass reached his ears, followed quickly by two cries of pain. Wesker's gaze swept over the crowd searching for the source as he recognized the owners. Julien dove from his side into the crowd, having also recognized one of the cries.

The blonde man followed after him, towards the area attendants were congregating towards. Julien pushed passed people and quickly disappeared in between the clutter of bodies. Snippets of conversations floated to his ears as he shouldered his way through the guests.

_'Somebody call for help!' 'Oh, that poor girl...What's wrong with her blood?' 'That woman just collapsed on her! Is she drunk?'_

Eventually, he made it to the source of the commotion and found Julien pulling his wife up off the floor. Tears streaked down her face as she slurred indecipherable words. As the Frenchman dragged her back, broken glass pieces sprinkled on the floor. Julien maneuvered her around to get one of her arms over his shoulder so he could better support her weight.

A low moan drew his eyes back to the floor where Sherry laid sprawled on her stomach, her white blouse stained a dark red over her shoulder, promising a deep wound among the many cuts and possible need of stitches. Glass shards glistened in the light from her injury. Tears coated the girl's face, which was scrunched in pain, but she made an effort to cry silently. Wesker swiftly dropped done beside her to discern what had happened.

"I think the muscles in Adelia's legs become too weak to support her weight and she fell atop Sherry, crushing a champagne glass between them," Julien said as held his trembling wife up.

The blonde man said nothing, but kept this in mind as he firmly held her arm to see how many shards had pieced her skin. Sherry winced at his touch, but fought to stay still and let him look. Blood bubbled up from the cut, pouring around the glass and further soaking her shirt. From behind them, Julien sucked in a sharp breath as his wife began hyperventilating in an effort to get enough oxygen through her weakening airway muscles

"M-my wife is having a crisis from her disease, I need to get her back home where I have my medical equipment," Julien said, having lifted his wife up so he could bolt from the room.

Weight pressed down on his shoulder and Wesker glanced down to see Claire's slender hand. She braced herself against his shoulder as she leaned over him, frantically trying to get a look at Sherry's injury. She gasped at the sight of all the blood.

"What happened? I was only gone for a minute," Claire said shrilly.

" _Go_ see if a waiter can direct you to a first aid kit and meet me in the entrance hall," Wesker ordered as he held Sherry's arm as if applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

Claire nodded, her face rigid as she straightened up and rushed to do as she was told. The crowd around them pressed closer, each trying to view what was wrong with the girl, gawking like imbeciles. He tensed his jaw, agitated that they wouldn't give him space to work. Their voices mashed together into one constant buzz of noise and Wesker had to shout to be heard.

"Move back!"

Something in his voice must have frightened them for the volume quickly dropped as the crowd dispersed, discreetly peeking back at them. Wesker carefully rolled her on her side and slid his arm under her legs to lift her bridal style in his arms. Sherry whimpered as he gripped her arm securely to prevent her from moving her shoulder and agitating her injury.

He walked briskly towards the door, guests moving quickly out of the way. Leaving the banquet room, he followed the route they'd taken earlier back to the entrance hall. Wesker spotted a marble bench along the wall and decided to use it as his temporary operating table, turning Sherry over to lie on her stomach and kneeling down beside her. _What was taking Claire so long?_

With no other options he removed the handkerchief from his pocket and unfolded it on the floor beside him. Focusing on the two large pieces stuck into her shoulder, Wesker swiftly pulled them from her skin. Crying out, the girl jolted and cringed from the pain. Telling her not to move, he carefully ripped open the back of her shirt, and lightly shook the material. Tiny glass shards sprinkled onto the floor, having not pierced the shirt far enough to reach Sherry's skin. Wesker then folded the fabric back to expose her wound.

Slipping off his tie, he folded the fabric in a square to clean up the blood that had pooled around the injury. Sherry flinched from his cold touch, but gave no reaction to him prodding around the cut. As he wiped the liquid away, he realized her wound had already clotted and lacked irritation around it. Which was strange since he had only just pulled the glass out. He completely wiped the area, ignoring the girl's protest.

After the tie soaked up the last of the blood, he lifted the cloth to find the smooth skin of her arm, no injury at all. Sherry's breath hitched as she also observed her lack of wound. She looked at him with wide frightened eyes. Wesker himself felt amazed as he tried to remember the exact time between removing the glass and discovering the injury healed. As fast as he had worked, it had to have been less than a minute. _Was the G-virus regeneration time faster than his own?_ Sherry sniffled as she watched him with her bottom lip trembling.

"I'm not- I won't turn into a monster will I?" she shrilly asked.

"Unlikely," Wesker said with his eyes still on the healed skin. "But certain properties of your unique strand of the G-virus are unknown. Which is why it's important I monitor it."

The girl's head hung as she lashed out angrily. "This is awful, I hope I never turn out like my parents!"

Wesker said as he neatly folded the soiled handkerchief over the glass pieces, "Turn out like what? Highly intelligent and well respected?" He placed the item in his pocket to properly dispose of the contaminated blood. "Your father, despite his faults, and even your mother wanted to help improve humanity."

"They killed all those people though," Sherry said weakly.

"That was never their intention I assure you," he said while rising to his feet and casting a shadow over the young girl. "And you should take pride in what they accomplished."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Sherry said faintly with a bemused expression on her face.

He was prevented from answering as shoes clacked rapidly towards them. Looking up, he watched the redhead rush over with her ponytail bobbing urgently behind her.

"Here's the first aid kit," Claire said breathlessly as her chest heaved from running over.

"A little late," Wesker said as he swept his hand towards Sherry.

"Sorry, the staff couldn't f-" The redhead's voice trailed off as her eyes fell on Sherry's exposed shoulder.

Her eyes darted to Wesker in bewilderment as Sherry sat up on the bench to better see Claire.

"If you haven't already guessed, it seems the virus in Sherry had some lasting effects," Wesker said.

The blood drained from her face as he practically watched the dots connect in her mind. Glancing around them as if expecting Umbrella to jump from the shadows, she fidgeted with a button on her blouse.

"I think we should get Sherry back home, now," she said faintly after nervously licking her lips.

"For once I would have to agree with you, Miss Redfield," he said.

Claire didn't respond as she helped Sherry to her feet. The young girl stood, shaken and ready to leave. Wesker told them to wait as he went to get their coats. His mind returned to what he had discovered during his walk. He had theorized the effects of the G-virus, but tonight its regeneration capabilities had been proven. Sherry was proof that it was possible for the virus to act within the body without mutating the host.

After obtaining their coats, he returned to the entrance hall. The redhead stood close to Sherry, but her initial shock had faded as she now chatted amicably with the girl. His shoes tapped against the tiles and drew their attention. Claire stood and took their coats from him, passing Sherry hers, before sliding her own on. They silently exited the building and asked the chauffer to bring his car around.

As they waited on the sidewalk, Claire came to stand beside him, a strange look on her face as she trembled slightly in the brisk air. He glanced down at her curiously with his brows raised.

"What is it?" Wesker asked.

"I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there," Claire said softly as she looked up at him sincerely. "For being so calm and helping Sherry quickly."

Wesker smiled amusedly down at her as he said, "I did say I would take care of her."

Their car pulled up to the curb as she looked up at him uncertainly. Her voice soft as she said, "I suppose you did."

Wesker turned away to open the car door for the girls. Claire ushered Sherry in first before she slipped in behind the girl, her eyes lingering on him until he shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter has been beta'd by Twistanturnu who gives me wonderful insights into my writing, always does an amazing job!
> 
> Translations:'Cheri' 'Darling'  
> 'Je voulais discuter de mon rapport precedent' 'I wanted to discuss my previous report'


	9. Chapter 9

_The sun shined in brightly through the window in Claire's childhood room, casting a harsh glare into the girl's eyes. Huffing in agitation, she reached across her bed and yanked the blinds closed. With the room darkened, the teenager curled in on her side, wondering why the weather couldn't match her dour mood._

_A sharp knock sounded from the door behind her, but Claire made no move to answer it. After a few minutes, the hinges squeaked as the door was opened._

_"Hey, Claire-bear, " Chris called softly from the doorway, making the redhead grimace._

_She refused to respond, sulking after the news he'd delivered to her and their mother earlier. Silence stretched out behind her as her older brother contemplated what to do. Before too long the sound of Chris' heavy steps moved closer and her bed creaked under his weight as he sat next to her. The redhead stayed stubbornly turned away from him._

_"Claire, it's just for a few months. I bet I'll even be back before the holidays."_

_Still she kept quiet and simply glared out the window. She wasn't naÃ¯ve enough to believe that her brother was guaranteed to come home safely from a war zone. The news lately had covered a lot of stories on the tensions around Iraq's invasion of Kuwait and many were calling for action. Her brother was going over there and all she'd seen him do was smile and joke about it. 'Wasn't he worried?'_

_He suddenly blew out a long breath from beside her. "Are you scared because I'm being deployed overseas?"_

_"I'm not scared!" young Claire said defensively as she whipped her head around to scowl at him._

_Chris chuckled at the look of frustration on her face as she realized she'd broken her silence. "You're right, my bad. No way a tough girl like you would get scared."_

_She held her scowl for a couple more seconds before Chris' teasing smile became infectious. "Yeah, I'm tougher than a boy like you, who screams when he sees a spider in the bathroom."_

_The redhead backed up against her headboard as she finally turned to fully face him. Her brother shot her a half-smile._

_"First off, I was half asleep and the stupid thing was huge. It caught me off guard when it crawled across my foot."_

_"Right," Claire said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes with a small grin on her face._

_Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees. The pair lapsed into silence as Chris absently gazed around at the posters on Claire's walls. While he was distracted, she ran her eyes over Chris' lean features and hoped that this wouldn't be the last time she saw him._

_"Chris?" Claire's voice was soft and barely reached the man's ears. He turned back towards her with his full attention. "You're going to be safe over there, right?"_

_Unexpectedly, he reached over to ruffle his sister's hair and earned another glare from her. "Don't make that face, I'm made of sturdy stuff. I won't let anything stop me from coming home to my troublesome little sister."_

_'There he went with the jokes again.' She sighed and realized there wasn't much else she could do besides wait and trust in his abilities._

_Releasing her legs, Claire moved in close and punched him playfully in the shoulder. "I'm not the troublesome one you big dummy."_

_He rolled his eyes at her antics, but his smile turned serious. "Look, I promise I'll always come back to you and mom. We're family after all, so I'll always be there for you guys."_

The warm memory faded as Claire slowly drifted awake. She blinked her eyes tiredly and lifted her face from the pillow to peer around the dark room. Out the window she could still faintly see the stars in the sky. The redhead groaned and dropped her head back against her pillow as she realized she was up again before the sun had even risen. She closed her eyes again, trying to fall back asleep, but her mind wouldn't shut off, focused on the last memories she had with Chris before their mother had died.

Sitting up, she stretched and gave a satisfied groan as her back popped. Claire's mind again drifted back to her dream and the nostalgia it brought with it. A dull ache spread across her chest and she had to pull in a couple deep breaths to ease the yearning for a home that was no longer hers. She needed to move, to distract herself, because she couldn't afford to wallow in her memories.

Standing abruptly, she began rifling through her drawers for a tank top and sweats. Nothing cleared her mind better than running. After changing, she decided to stop by Sherry's room to check in on her. After returning from the party the night before, the girl had gone straight up to her room without a word to her or Wesker.

Dread had twisted her stomach the night before when she had noticed Sherry's healed arm. It was further proof that the G-virus had altered the girl's body. If she felt worried over what else the virus could be changing then it was likely that Sherry was even more scared. It had amazed her that Wesker could keep cool under that situation, while Claire had felt close to panicking.

Peeking into the room, Claire spotted the girl's blonde hair fanned out on the pillow. Sherry slept sprawled out on her stomach with her mouth hanging open for her to softly snore. The redhead held in a chuckle at how relaxed she looked. She'd been afraid that the shocking discovery from the party might have kept her from sleeping. Feeling reassured, Claire quietly eased the door closed again and crept towards the stairs.

Her thoughts drifted to Adelia, now that she'd checked on the girl, and the redhead hoped the woman was alright. Wesker had mentioned that Julien rushed her home for medical treatment. The woman had seemed eccentric, but kind. Claire decided it'd be worth checking on Adelia herself, if only to assure her that Sherry wasn't hurt.

Descending the steps quickly, Claire made her way to the kitchen to get some water. As she grabbed a bottle from the fridge, she debated about where to leave a note for Wesker. Not that she thought he'd necessarily care if she left. After jotting a short note about her plans to visit Julien, she carried her bottle and the note into the hall where she quickly slid the paper under the basement door. He'd be guaranteed to notice it there.

Straightening back up, the redhead finished walking to the front door. She picked her shoes up from beside the door and set her water bottle to the side as she pulled them on.

"Planning on a morning jog," a voice called from inside the sitting room.

Claire instantly recognized the deep timbre of Wesker's voice before he stepped out into the hall. His words were spoken matter-of-factly, as if he already knew exactly what she planned to do. _Well, she wasted that paper for nothing._

She didn't bother to look up at him while she continued to lace her shoes. "Yeah, I figured since Julien and his wife live so close I'd stop by and check in on them."

Wesker silently stood beside her for another second before heading down the hall with a stack of files tucked under his arm. Scoffing at his silent departure, Claire grabbed her bottle from the floor and did some quick stretches. She supposed that by now she should be accustomed to his aloof behavior, and after his actions last night she'd started to re-evaluate her opinion on him.

Stepping out into the brisk morning air, Claire closed the front door and began a steady jog down the side of the road. The way was densely surrounded by trees until it opened up onto the highway. As she paced her breathing, Claire's mind moved to the other issue at hand, breaking into the corporation's headquarters for information.

Her first issue was transportation into the city. Staying on an isolated property meant she didn't have many options besides the one car Wesker kept at the house. There was no doubt in her mind that the man wouldn't let her simply take off with it, so she'd spent more time closely watching his schedule. Trying to establish a timeframe that she'd likely be able to sneak off with it.

The man ran a tight schedule that mostly stayed the same every day. From what she had noticed, he woke a couple hours before the sun rose every morning. He'd then go through his morning routine before heading down to the basement for the majority of the day, only coming back up if he needed something from them. Her brother's ex-captain barely seemed to eat and yet could maintain such a well-built physique.

Claire lightly shook her head and focused back on her plan. So far, her best chance seemed to be after he retired to his room for the night. This made planning an exact time tricky since it was usually after midnight, but varied by hours. The redhead sighed, deciding she'd just have to wait him out and make it work. At least the man always hung the keys to the car on a hook next to the basement door. One less problem to worry about. Once there, Claire would just need to figure out a way past Umbrella's security.

Up ahead, Julien's long driveway finally came into view. Pausing her thoughts, the redhead pushed herself to move faster and her leg muscles began to slightly burn. Soon, the trees broke away to reveal the man's house. The sun had begun to peak over the horizon and cast a glare against the glass wall. Shielding her eyes, Claire sprinted the last few feet before coming to a stop at his door.

Breathing heavily, the redhead took a moment to catch her breath and drink from her water bottle before knocking. As winded as she felt, Claire had to wonder if she'd become too complacent. She'd need to start working out again to ensure she didn't fall out of shape. Composing herself, she waited for someone to respond.

It didn't take long for Julien to answer; he swung the door open and leaned his weight against the doorway. The Frenchman was still dressed in his wrinkled suit from the party, missing only the suit jacket. His face was drawn and haggard as he looked down at her. Dark bags hung from under his bloodshot eyes, which made the redhead wonder if he'd even gone to bed the night before.

"How's Adelia doing?" Claire asked gently.

He roughly rubbed the side of his face and sighed. Julien glanced down at the ground before beckoning her into the house. Claire stepped in, wondering if his actions meant that things had gotten pretty bad. She followed him into the living room and watched as he practically collapsed on the couch.

"She's doing well, I suppose. Spent the night on a respirator, but was able to breath on her own this morning," Julien said as he gestured for her to take a seat.

Claire sat beside him and the Frenchman rested his head against the back of the couch, his eyes shining as he said quietly, "She has been fairly distraught over hurting Sherry, though."

The redhead subconsciously reached over and patted his shoulder. "Let her know that Sherry's fine and she shouldn't worry."

Julien nodded with a small smile before straightening his posture and speaking clinically. "I've hired a nurse to help out for the next couple of days until she's back on her feet."

His tone remained the same, but she noticed his shoulders visibly sag. "Wesker called before you arrived and suggested we might try asking around for your brother in Lyon since it's another prominent place for Umbrella. It'll be a little more than a five hour drive though, so we won't return until late tonight."

"Is it really a good idea to leave your wife's side right now?" Claire asked hesitantly while crinkling the plastic of her water bottle.

He looked down the hallway that led into Adelia's bedroom with his lips pinched together. After a couple of minutes, he stood from the couch and smoothed out his wrinkled shirt before turning to her with a distant gaze.

"This isn't the first time she's had an episode that's left her bedridden. I know how to provide her the best possible medical care, so I'm sure she'll be fine while I'm gone." His voice was rough and defensive, but his words didn't seem to be meant to convince her.

His reasoning didn't matter though, since she had other plans. She met his gaze and held it.

"Actually, I'd rather just spend the day with Sherry. She's kind of shook up after last night," Claire said as she followed his lead and stood up from the couch. "I just stopped by to check on you guys."

For a moment, the Frenchman seemed at a loss, unused to her refusing any of his plans. Recovering, he slowly asked if she was sure about this.

The redhead nodded and stared down the hall with thoughts of Adelia. "Besides, it wouldn't feel right for me to drag you around right after everything that happened."

Stepping close to her side, the man's voice was firm as he started to protest. "Well, I don't think Wes-"

"I'm really worn out after that run, so would do you mind just taking me back to the house?" Claire interrupted with a yawn.

Julien abruptly closed his mouth and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath before saying, "Alright, just let me get my keys and talk to the nurse."

He turned with heavy steps down the hall and Claire stayed behind, not wanting to intrude if he didn't want visitors to see his wife's current condition. Several minutes passed before he returned, dressed in clean clothes with the keys clenched in one hand. He didn't say anything to her, just simply walked out the front door. The redhead followed behind, feeling a little guilty that she apparently put him in a bad mood.

They climbed into his sedan and Julien maneuvered the car down the driveway and out onto the highway. An awkward silence filled the car for the couple minutes it took to arrive back at the other house. As the car came to a stop, Claire quickly climbed out of the car. She started to close the door just as Julien finally spared her a glance.

"Claire, I - well, thanks for coming to check on Adelia. I'm sure she'll be happy to know you stopped by," Julien said hesitantly.

Before she could reply he reached over and shut the car door for her. Gravel crunched under the car's wheels as Julien drove away, leaving Claire standing alone and slightly confused in front of the house. She finally decided to simply chalk his behavior up to the stress from last night.

The sun had fully risen and she took a moment to observe the house in the morning light. Little purple flowers had bloomed along the ivy and the curtains were pulled out of sight from the windows. The house felt a lot less empty now. Her stomach grumbled loudly and broke her from her thoughts. The redhead imagined various warm breakfasts as she strode towards the house.

She pulled the front door open, feeling tired and drained after her early morning exercise. Kicking the dirt off her shoes at the doormat, she started to climb the stairs to check on Sherry when the girl's voice drifted out from the kitchen. Turning around, Claire moved down the hall and peeked her head into the kitchen.

Sherry sat at the dining room table, bent over a textbook with her small body leaning in towards the man next to her. Claire could only see Wesker from behind, his head dipped down as he extended a gloved hand to point at something in the book. Wesker's deep voice methodically began explaining a process involved in monitoring outbreaks of disease. He paused in his lecture and lifted his head so Sherry could finish jotting down her notes. The blonde girl was focused as she worked, absorbing the new information. Claire couldn't help but admire how quickly and easily the girl seemed to learn.

"Would you care to join us?" Wesker suddenly asked.

Claire's eyes met the inky surface of his glasses as she realized his attention was now on her. Sherry's head shot up as she peered around the blonde man to see her. Her voice was light and happy as she greeted Claire. The redhead stepped through the doorway and smiled amusedly at the two of them, unsurprised now by how easily Wesker could notice a person's presence. Striding across the room, she slid into the chair next to him.

"You're helping with Sherry's lessons today?" Claire asked after running her gaze over the textbook and noticing the chapter was on epidemiology*.

"Yes, well, my research has reached a stage where all I can do is wait," Wesker said, surprising Claire with his willingness to reveal something about his work after he'd been so tight-lipped about it.

She silently watched as Wesker resumed his lecture, trying to follow along with his words about statistical analysis and clinical research. Unlike Sherry, she couldn't quite grasp the scientific concepts. As the pair finished the chapter, Wesker handed Sherry a slip of paper with an assignment and stood from his seat. The girl glanced at the parchment quickly, before sliding it into her notebook.

Claire leaned her elbows on the table as she watched Sherry gather up her textbooks. "Hey Sherry, do you want to go out and do something today?"

"Uh, not really. I kind of just want to go to my room," Sherry said while shooting the redhead an apologetic smile.

Lifting her stack of books, the young girl quickly left the room. Claire watched her leave, but made no move to pursue her. Maybe the girl wanted some time to herself to process everything. The redhead glanced over to Wesker, who had moved into the kitchen. She watched him as he pulled a knife from one of the drawers and set an apple from the fruits basket on the counter. He suddenly angled his head towards her in a way that she could only assume meant, _'what do you want?'_.

"Can I ask you a couple of questions about Sherry's virus?" she asked as she stood and moved to his side in the kitchen.

Wesker briefly glanced at the watch around his wrist before turning back to face the counter. "I can spare some time since I have nothing better to do."

"Does this quick healing she has affect her in any negative ways?" Claire asked as she studied his face for a reaction.

This question had been on her mind ever since she'd seen Sherry's lack of wound the night before. She tapped her fingers against the counter as she watched him slice the apple in half.

"Not that I've been able to notice," he said while cutting out the apple's core from both halves. "So far, the virus' only effect on her has been to allow her to quickly regenerate tissue."

Her next question seemed to rush from her mouth as she leaned in closer to him. "So, she's not going to suddenly start mutating, right?"

His hand moved deftly as he cut the rest of the apple into slices while he answered her. "She won't, the antidote you injected her with in Raccoon City has mostly made the virus dormant."

The redhead exhaled and smiled widely. Relaxing her tense shoulders, she breathed in his scent, noticing he smelt subtly of sweat and antiseptic. She suddenly became aware of how close she was to him. Quickly stepping back, Claire tried to focus her thoughts on the situation with Sherry, which made her wonder why she felt so comfortable trusting Wesker's judgement on this.

"How do you know all of this?" Claire questioned as she reached over and plucked an apple slice from his plate.

He frowned at her actions, his features stern as he turned his gaze on her again. The redhead gave him a playful smile before biting into the fruit. She moved over to the sink and grabbed a cup from the cabinet for a glass of water.

He scoffed, but made no comment, choosing instead to answer her inquiry. "I have a degree in bioengineering and virology."

She tilted her head as she fully processed how weird that seemed. To her knowledge, any kind of law enforcement position usually required a degree in criminal justice or criminology. "Why does a former police captain have degrees in science?"

Wesker suddenly reached over her with the knife and tossed it in the sink. Straightening back out, he picked his plate up and ate a couple of slices. After a second, he answered her question with an enquiry of his own.

"Julien tells me you didn't want to follow a lead on your brother in Lyon. I thought you were worried. Shouldn't you be tracking leads instead of playing around here?" His tone was nonchalant, as if he didn't really care, but the words still caused her to flinch back.

Claire crossed her arms, trying to ignore the wrenching in her gut. "I wanted to stay close to Sherry after what happened."

"The girl is good at compartmentalizing. Any emotional trauma has shown no effect on her schooling or her interactions with me," Wesker said after finishing the rest of the fruit on his plate. "So I'm sure Sherry would be fine if you broadened your search for Chris."

The redhead pursed her lips in thought. Between Julien and him, it felt like the pair were pushing hard for her to move her search from Paris. Did they know something she didn't? She furrowed her eyebrows as she considered the possibility, but she felt pretty certain that the headquarters in Paris definitely had some information.

"I'd like to keep looking around here a little longer. I have a feeling I might find something soon," she said.

His tone was hard as he reprimanded her. "I hope you don't rely on these 'feelings' you get too often."

Her nose wrinkled in frustration as she bite her tongue to avoid smarting off. After a minute, she decide to simply change the subject instead of answering. The redhead had something else that she'd been curious about.

"What was it like?" she asked. "Working with my brother, I mean."

His lips pinched together at her question as he turned to set his plate in the sink with a loud 'clang' that made her jump. While running the water to fill the sink, the blond man smoothed his features, then answered with a neutral tone.

"Simply put, Redfield was reckless and couldn't follow orders without back talk, but he was also my best marksman."

Claire nodded and gazed out the kitchen window. "Yeah, that sounds like Chris."

He didn't make any further comments as she stood there, lost in thoughts of her brother. Wesker quickly washed the dishes before draining the sink. The sound of the water draining brought her back to reality. As the man dried his hands, she asked something she'd been wondering since Raccoon City.

"Wesker, what exactly happened at the Arklay Mansion?"

"We've already discussed this. Is there really a need to go over it again?" He didn't even spare her a glance as he headed for the door.

"I know, but I was hoping for some more details on what my brother went through there," Claire said while calling after him.

"Sometimes it might be better to stay ignorant, Miss Redfield," Wesker said darkly, disappearing into the hall after his parting words. "The truth might be more than you can handle."

Claire frowned at the empty doorway, resenting the implication that she couldn't handle knowing what happened. She'd experienced plenty of awful things since she went in search for her brother. Pushing off the counter, she also left the kitchen and headed towards her room. For now, her questions surrounding Wesker would have to wait. She had some last minute preparations before she could execute her plan and finally see what Umbrella knew about Chris.

* * *

"So is this Mr. Evans, or whatever you said his real name was, is he in some kind of trouble?"

The older man's raspy accent drew Leon's attention from the faded and stained walls of the hall they were walking down. He'd followed the DSO's intel on Chris Redfield to this apartment complex. Claire's brother had apparently been trying hard to cover his tracks by traveling with a fake identity, but the manager had easily recognized him once Leon showed him a photo.

"You could say that," Leon answered and purposely avoided the other man's inquisitive eyes. He had arrived in Amsterdam late the evening before with nothing but a duffle bag and the vague information Hannigan had found on the older Redfield.

He tried to mask his impatience as he followed the slow steps of the building's balding manager, who didn't seem to care that Leon had said this was urgent. Earlier, the heavyset man had seemed unsurprised when Leon shown him his badge, as if the place frequently got visits from law enforcement.

A sudden loud thump followed by raised voices could be heard through the thin walls of one of the doors they passed, interrupting his sour thoughts. He could tell why Chris had chosen this place to lay low while he investigated Umbrella. The residents were likely to mind their own business to avoid getting involved with the rougher people who hung around the area.

The old man shook his head in disapproval as he cynically replied, "You just can't trust anyone these days. They'd seemed like such a respectable couple too."

He stopped suddenly and Leon barely managed to avoid running into his back.

"Well, this is the apartment," the manager said as he used his master key to unlock a door marked with the tarnished brass numbers _'313_ ', then turned back to Leon. "As I said earlier, I'm not sure what you expect to find in here. This man you're looking for and his girlfriend left several days ago."

Leon understood the chances of finding a clue were slim, but he hadn't traveled all this way just to leave without making sure. He needed to catch up with Claire and Sherry as soon as he could so he could do some damage control.

The manager pushed open the door to the apartment, but didn't move from the doorway.

"Thanks for unlocking the door," Leon said firmly. "I'd like to look around now."

The man held his gaze for a second before shrugging in defeat and stepping out of the way.

"Lock the door behind you when you're finished," he said as he left, walking back down the long hall from which they'd come.

As the manager disappeared around the corner, Leon moved into the small apartment, surveying his surroundings as he thought about his objectives.

Hannigan hadn't been exaggerating when she said his first mission would be assigned after his graduation. It was only hours after he had completed the accelerated program that Leon was called in for a debriefing. They'd handed him a thin manila folder with all available information on the Redfields and Sherry Birkin. His mission was to track down Sherry Birkin and return her at all costs, apprehending Claire Redfield if possible. The agency's top priority seemed to be recovering Sherry.

He'd been presented with two options to start his search- head to France where Claire's canceled flight had been scheduled, or follow a lead on her brother's last known whereabouts. For Leon it had been a no-brainer; find Chris and he'd find Claire, because if she had actually managed to leave the country with Sherry, he felt certain she'd be tracking her brother as well. After deciding that, he'd found himself on a flight to Amsterdam in the Netherlands.

Having arrived, he was now following a lead to locate Chris and the unidentified woman with whom he was travelling. Pushing the front door open, Leon stepped into a wide room that had a kitchenette on one side; opposite it was a doorway that led into the rest of the quarters. Leon quickly browsed over the space, but the only sign that tenants had lived there were the indentations in the carpet from furniture and food wrappers left in the trash. The apartment seemed to be as empty as the manager had insisted.

He finished his cursory scan of the front room and slowly made his way down the narrow hallway to check the rest of the apartment. The first two doors led to an empty linen closet and a bathroom. Each was empty and wiped clean. As he stepped back into the hall, the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end. Quieting his breathing, Leon listened intently as he instinctively felt he was no longer alone.

The soft sound of fabric rustling drew his attention to the last room at the end of the hall. Leon slowly withdrew his handgun from the holster on his side. Aiming it at the floor, he took slow, deliberate steps toward the closed door. Seconds passed as the agent waited for any noise of a possible intruder. As the silence stretched on, he carefully turned the handle and pushed the door open with the tip of his gun. He stepped in swiftly while sweeping his weapon around the empty room. His eyes focused across the room on an open window. Wind blew in and pushed against a set of grey curtains. Next, his gaze drifted down to the floor, where he noticed a crumpled paper in the middle of the room.

With no furniture for anyone to hide behind, he holstered his gun and moved to retrieve the parchment. As he bent down to pick it up, clothing rustled above him. Before he could react to the noise, pain blossomed along the back of his head. Leon stumbled forward in shock, landing on hands and knees as a figure dressed in black snatched up the paper and vaulted out the window. Recovering quickly, he rushed towards the window in time to hear the metal of the fire escape groan as the person leapt from the second landing and dashed down the alley.

Climbing out the window, Leon quickly followed down the fire escape and towards the alley. His head throbbed from the kick to the back of his head. _Had this bastard been hanging from the ceiling like a damn ninja?_ Leon pushed the pain from his mind as he sprinted across the cobblestone. He could just barely make out the figure ahead of him before they disappeared around the corner. Reaching the end of the alley soon after, he turned in the same direction.

The alley opened up onto a roadway with sidewalks crawling with crowds of people. Leon paused for a second to try and pick the intruder out in the crowd. Not that far off, he spotted the person's dark clothing as they tried to discreetly move against the flow of pedestrians. A man on a bike yelled just as Leon narrowly avoided being run over. Waving at the man apologetically, Leon kept running, determined not to lose sight of the intruder. He wove through the crowd and found his height advantageous in watching the figure's dark hair bobbing in between the people. The distance between them began to shrink, until the perpetrator suddenly veered off onto a narrow side street. Leon barely managed to push through the crowds to follow.

Coming around the corner, he immediately noticed the lack of people and quickly spotted the person, or should he say woman, at the bottom of a dead-end street. Before Leon could spout off a witty one liner about her lack of exits, he noticed her hand drop down to an oddly bulky gun holstered to her thigh. He reacted automatically, launching himself across the distance between them. Leon tackled the person from behind and sent them both tumbling onto the ground.

As they fell, a distinctly female voice cried out, and he barely avoided the elbow jerked back towards his face. Pinning her limbs beneath him, he felt pride surge through him for catching the intruder. The agent brushed off his victory and sat up enough to turn the woman over.

_Time to see who'd ambushed him._

His breathing was ragged as he tried to catch his breath. Stretched out beneath him was the very woman who'd been haunting his thoughts, Ada Wong.


	10. Chapter 10

The coarse edges of the cobblestone dug into her back as Ada lay pinned underneath Leon. His chest heaved up and down as he worked to catch his breath. She waited for him to say something, anything besides watch her with his wide, blue eyes in a daze.

Finally, she broke the silence herself. "It's been a while, Leon."

He blinked rapidly as if freed from a trance before scrambling off her. His rough hand grasped hers as he helped Ada to her feet. Leon held on a moment longer than necessary, before letting his arm fall awkwardly to his side. They quietly watched one another.

"Ada," Leon said softly, then his voice started to rise as questions flooded his mind. "You survived? How did you escape the city? Where have yo-"

"Down boy, one question at a time," she said, her voice smooth as velvet.

He snapped his mouth shut, pausing for a moment in his bombardment to reach out towards her with a shaking hand. For a second, Ada imagined that he wanted to caress her cheek. Maybe pull her close so they could kiss again like they had in Raccoon City. Then, she noticed the subtle shift in his face, and pulled back as his arms tensed to grab her. His gentle eyes were gone, replaced with a look of betrayal.

"What the hell were you doing in that apartment, Ada," Leon said with a low voice as he moved to pull out his gun.

_There was too much between them now._

Taking a couple more steps back, she raised her hands complacently. "Can't we have a peaceful talk between old partners?"

Leon clicked the safety off in response and sidestepped to fully block the one exit from the alley. Her eyes traced over his body, gauging how serious he was. The look on his face was resolute and his stance was solid, but there was the slightest tremble of his finger near the trigger.

_He won't shoot._

"Pity," she said, dropping the sultry tone and meeting his gaze squarely. "I had some business there for my employer."

"So what Annette said about you is true." His voice sounded strained as he tensed his jaw. "Who are you working for and why do they have you snooping around Chris Redfield?"

He shouldn't have trusted her, naively believing the best of people. Ada frowned. Silently they regarded one another, waiting for the other to crack. Too much time was passing, she needed to throw him off and make her escape.

"Leon." His name left her lips with a wistful sigh, causing the man's eyebrows to raise. "I think you should know that no matter how much you search, you won't find Claire and the Birkin girl on your own."

"You know where Claire and Sherry are?" Leon asked, drawing back and lowering his arms so the barrel of the gun shifted towards the ground.

_Perfect._

Ada swiftly grabbed the grappling gun strapped to her thigh, aiming for less than a second before firing the hook to embed in the roof above her. Leon shouted in surprise, hastily raising his handgun again.

He didn't shoot.

Flipping a switch, she squeezed the trigger again, causing the thick wire to retract back into the gun and pull Ada up. As her body neared the top of the wall, she stuck out her boots and skidded her heel along the concrete to slow her ascent. She reached up and used the drainpipe to pull herself the rest of the way. Ada freed the hook and tensed to sprint across the roof, but paused. Reaching into her pocket, the woman withdrew the paper from the apartment. After skimming its contents, she peered back down at Leon in the alley.

"When you find Chris, tell him that a ghost has his sister," Ada said as she dropped the paper over the edge.

He scrambled to catch the paper before it blew away in the wind. "Ada, wait! What is that supposed to mean?"

Turning away from him, she sprinted to the far side of the roof and jumped, ducking into a roll as she landed on another building. The woman sprang up, sprinting across for another jump. That man hadn't changed much since Raccoon City. Still too trusting, but she couldn't fault him for wanting to find his friends. His loyalty was endearing, but he'd learn soon enough that he couldn't save everyone.

"Ada!" Leon's shout rang out from behind her as Ada pushed herself to move faster, leaving him behind.

She moved across the roofs for a couple more blocks, before deciding it was safe to head down. Busting the lock to a stairwell, the woman descended to the ground floor. A janitor jumped back as she opened the last door into the lobby of what appeared to be an office building. Heading for the exit, Ada briskly moved out onto the sidewalk and wove through the bustling crowd until she spotted an idling taxi cab. Pulling open the rear door, she slid into the backseat.

"Didn't you see the light? I'm on break." The driver scowled at her from his rear-view mirror.

In response, Ada leaned forward to drop a five-hundred Euro note into his lap. The man's eyebrows rose to his hairline as he took the money and held it up to check its authenticity. His eyes cut back to her as he quickly pocketed the bill.

"Where to, Miss?"

"That's more like it," she said as she leaned back into her seat. "The Marriott hotel, please."

He nodded, before steering out from the curb and into traffic. The drive was quick, and the driver followed her directions smoothly as she directed him to drop her off by the back guest door. Ada slid out her key card and entered the building. She unlocked the room closest to the exit and closed the door behind her.

A small hall led into a single room with tightly drawn curtains. Ada moved further into the space, stripping off her holster and setting it on the nightstand next to the bed. She eyed the bathroom door for a second before unfastening the satchel at her side. The woman pulled out a heavy square laptop with new scratches littered across the top. She set it on the desk and flipped the lid open. A black screen appeared, with green letters flashing across it: _password_.

Typing in the connection code, Ada watched a line of blinking dots until her video chat was answered. The screen flickered and lit up to reveal Wesker. His elbows were propped on a desk, his hands clasped under his chin. The room behind him was dark, allowing the light from the screen to reflect against his glasses and cast a blue glow across his pale skin.

"Report," he said, not bothering with a greeting.

"My search of the branch in Amsterdam has proven that Umbrella is in fact keeping tabs on Chris Redfield," Ada said, jumping straight into the details of what she'd found. "It appears he's been traveling under a fake identity, but I did manage to locate where he was staying. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived, he had already moved on. The building's other residents revealed that he was traveling with a thin, dark-haired female."

Wesker nodded, his expression hardly surprised as he said, "Jill Valentine."

"Their previous apartment was mostly empty, but I did find a receipt for a pocket dictionary for translating German," Ada said. "I think it's safe to assume that was his next destination, since Umbrella has several underground operations currently running there."

The man hummed lowly in thought for a moment before suddenly turning his head to look at something outside the screen. His lips thinned as he stretched a hand out towards the keyboard.

"It seems one of my pawns has decided to wander off on her own," he said darky before turning sharply back towards the screen. "Follow that lead."

The video feed went dark, snuffing out the little light she had. Closing the laptop, Ada stood from her seat. She pitied whoever had caught his attention. Stretching her arms back behind her head, Ada grimaced as her sore muscles protested. There were other things to worry about beside Wesker's latest prey, like finding a hot shower.

* * *

It'd been over an hour since Claire had heard Wesker enter his room. An hour that she paced at the foot of her bed, running her thumb over the indentions in the lighter Chris had given her. Her eyes flickered to the waning moon outside her window as she wondered where her brother could be.

 _How long had it been now since she'd last seen him, six months? Not since her visit in June during her college break. Now it was getting close to the holidays and he was still missing. Would this end up being her first thanksgiving, or even Christmas, without him?_ She chewed on her lip in thought. At least she knew Chris was out there somewhere. All of Sherry's family was dead.

Pocketing the lighter, she dropped to her knees, figuring she'd waited long enough for Wesker to fall asleep. From underneath the bed, the redhead pulled out a backpack. Earlier that day, she'd packed the bag with ammunition and a 9mm handgun from the hidden cabinet in the wall. Better safe than sorry when it came to dealing with Umbrella.

Claire unzipped the bag and removed the gun from inside. The metal felt cool against her palm as she curled her fingers around the handle, comforted by the protection she knew it would offer her. After sliding it into her waistband, she closed the bag and pulled the straps over her shoulders.

_It was now or never._

Cracking her door, she peered into the darkness. Nothing moved in the hall and the silence was thick, making her breath seem loud and distracting. She opened it the rest of the way and stepped out, her stomach fluttering. Checking under the other doors, she confirmed that they were dark before heading towards the stairs. Her fingers trailed along the wooden banister as she swept her eyes behind her once more.

She descended the stairs silently and stopped on the last one from the ground. Easing her foot down, Claire stepped onto the hardwood floor slowly to prevent it from groaning under her weight. Moving carefully, she made her way to the basement door where the car keys were hung. The redhead lifted the keys from the hook easily and flinched as they jingled against each other.

Heading quickly over to the front door, Claire nimbly turned the locks while running through her plan again. _Get the keys, check. Now, she needed to start the car and get out to the road without waking anyone up. Maybe, if she shifted it into neutral and pushed the vehicle to the bend behind the trees..._ The redhead started pulling open the door.

_She could do this!_

A hand swiftly extended from the darkness and slammed the door shut with enough force to yank the knob from her fingers. Dark arms braced against the frame, caging her in. Claire swallowed a scream, reaching instinctively for her gun as her mind raced with memories of the decayed hands groping at her from boarded windows. Aiming it under her other arm, she pressed the weapon's muzzle against the person's firm body. The man behind her chuckled, sending puffs of warm air against her ear. Shivers ran down her back.

"Going somewhere, dear heart?" a deep voice asked.

Claire fought to keep her tone calm even as her heart raced in her chest. "Wesker?"

He stood so close that Claire could feel his body heat against her back as he dipped his head down to say, "I applaud your quick reaction, but..."

Movement flickered from the corner of her eye. Before she could process the blur, her arm holding the handgun was jerked, forcing the redhead to twist around and face him as he pushed her back against the door. Tensing from the shock, her finger tightened around the trigger just as her arm was yanked up. The gun fired upwards and pain flared in her wrist as Wesker roughly bent it, forcing her to release the weapon. Bullets clinking against the floor barely reached her ears over the ringing in her head as she stared up at his dark figure.

"You'll have to try harder if you want to outmaneuver me," Wesker said as he towered over her.

Her breaths came quick and shallow as she slumped back against the door. He'd moved so quietly that she'd never even noticed him approach. She swallowed heavily, trying to relieve the sudden dryness in her mouth. The expression on his face is shadowed, impossible to discern as she tried to scrutinize him through the darkness. _Get it together, Claire._

"Was that really necessary?" she hissed as her earlier fear began to dissipate, leaving her with nervous energy.

The blonde man ignored her, glancing up towards the ceiling. Claire followed his gaze, then suddenly heard the frantic footsteps overhead. Moments later, the hall light turned on as Sherry flipped the switch at the top of the stairs. Hurrying down, she froze when she noticed them by the door.

"Uncle Albert? Claire?" Sherry's eyes immediately focused on the gun. "What's going on?"

Wesker stepped back from Claire and tucked the weapon into his belt. Chewing on her lip, Sherry followed his movements with eyes. Claire immediately straightened and moved out from behind him to reassure her.

"It's nothing to worry about, Sherry," she said at the same time Wesker told the girl to go back to bed.

Sherry's head darted between them with uncertainty as she parted her lips to question them.

"Actually, why don't we go back up together," Claire said, causing Sherry to close her mouth. The redhead went to rush up the stairs to her, but jolted as the keys in her hand were tugged from her grasp.

"I'll be taking these," Wesker said as he slid them into his pocket.

She glowered at him, but didn't say anything as she resumed her trek up the stairs at a slower pace. Claire was unsure what to expect now that she'd been caught. Watching to make sure they were really following, Sherry took the lead to the second floor. Heavy steps followed behind both of them.

Sherry stepped off the stairs first, hovering by her room as she waited for them. The redhead glanced around at all the open doors as she came to a stop by the girl. _Had she checked every room for them before coming downstairs?_ Wesker came to a stop across from them, assuming a posture that demanded answers.

"Care to explain what you were doing?" Wesker's words were cold.

Claire sighed and asked, "Do we have to do this in front of Sherry?"

The girl in question shifted her weight from foot to foot. _She couldn't put Sherry through this again_. Claire turned to head for her own room, hoping to postpone the inevitable argument. Her arm was pulled back suddenly as Wesker steered her away from her door.

"Hey, wait a minute," Claire said as she stumbled over her feet to keep up with him. "Let me go."

The redhead twisted her head to look back at Sherry as she tried to free herself from his grasp. The girl met her gaze, looking ready to say something when Wesker interjected.

"Bed, Sherry."

"Good night," she said quickly before turning to head back into her room.

Wesker's grip tightened around her arm as he pushed the door to his room open, pulling her in behind him. He let her go and turned on the lamp at his desk. She stood close to the door as he moved across the room to the wall, opening a hidden compartment similar to the one in her room. Claire glanced around the room, which shared the same furniture as her own, except it still looked as bare as the first day. _No mementos of family or friends._ The only notable possession in sight was the black laptop on his desk. She gravitated towards it, curious of what she would find if she looked inside.

"Where exactly were you planning to go with that car?" Wesker asked, causing her hand to freeze above the laptop.

She turned back towards him as he slipped the gun into the wall and resealed the hidden stash. He watched her critically, his muscles tensed to pounce if she acted on her thoughts. Claire changed her hand's direction to pull out the desk chair.

"The receptionist lied about Umbrella not having information on Chris. They know something, I'm sure of it," the redhead said as she took a seat and crossed her arms. "I was going to use the car to go to Paris and search the corporate offices. Julien seemed convinced that they didn't know anything, so I figured you wouldn't take me seriously if I asked."

"Did you really think you could just waltz in there with one gun and expect to find what you were looking for?" He stalked closer to her and looked down on her with what Claire imagined to be a haughty expression. "They'd have caught an amateur like you within minutes, and then made sure you disappeared. Permanently."

His words made her bristle as she snapped back defensively. "I'm more capable than you think!"

"Do you really want to test that theory?" Wesker said, as if issuing her a challenge. She held his gaze as he stood there regarding her and the situation. "You might be interested to know that your brother's gone to Germany."

Her mouth went slack. "What?"

That was the last thing she was expecting him to say. A beep sounded from his belt, drawing her eyes to the pager on his side. He abruptly unclipped it, scanning the screen before swiftly picking up his laptop and turning towards the door. Claire clambered up from her seat to stop him.

"Wesker, what do you know about Chris?" the redhead asked with a tone close to pleading.

She grabbed his arm, determined to get some kind of answer. He easily shook her grip off and left, leaving the door open as if suggesting she also leave. Clenching her hands, the redhead positioned herself back at his desk, determined to wait him out.

Staring up at the room's white ceiling, she tried to prepare herself for when Wesker inevitably returned. _Why was he so difficult?_ She closed her eyes and drew in a couple of breaths to clear her mind.

Claire leaned her head against the back of the chair as time seemed to pass slowly. The tension in her muscles drained as she sat there, leaving her with a building sense of exhaustion. _What was taking him so long?_ The redhead's eyelids grew heavy and she shifted her position in the chair. It was well after midnight and she figured the man couldn't be gone much longer.

Her eyes suddenly flew open, blinking rapidly in the morning light. She didn't remember going to bed. Claire rolled over and stretched her hand out across the soft sheets.

_Tap-tap-tap._

Someone else was there. Stiffening, the redhead twisted to look across the room. Wesker sat at the desk, his slick blonde hair illuminated by the light as he typed with his back to her.

Pushing herself up, Claire frantically moved loose stands of hair from her face as the situation caught up with her. She needed to say something, but found she could only stare dumbly at his back. _Had he came back and moved her to the bed?_

"It's rude to fall sleep in someone else's room," Wesker said, without turning away from the laptop's screen.

"I didn't mean to," Claire mumbled as her face began to heat up. Her mind jumped frantically towards the reason for staying last night. "You never answered me about how you know Chris is in Germany."

His typing paused as he took a second to think before answering, "A trusted source of mine passed along the information."

"You sure seem to have a lot of powerful connections," Claire with curiosity.

This time he stopped and spun the chair around to face her. "Since my bed was occupied, I didn't get the chance to sleep last night. I need to rest. So unless you want to share a bed with me, I suggest you leave."

"I get it, I'm going," Claire said as she jumped up from the bed.

She moved past him, catching a glimpse of what looked like an email as she passed. He lowered the lid and stood from the desk just as Claire opened the door and left. Tugging it shut behind her, the redhead jumped as a door opened across the hall.

"Claire?" Sherry asked, sparing a glance at the door behind the redhead, "Were you in there all night?"

The girl's voice sounded surprised as she tried to discreetly look Claire over. The redhead glanced down at herself. She was still dressed in her clothes from yesterday, which were wrinkled from sleeping in them. As a teenager, Chris had jumped to conclusions from far less when seeing her with a boy. Claire quickly tried to smooth out her clothes, but paused. Sherry wasn't her brother.

"How about some breakfast?" she asked Sherry with a smile, not feeling the need to defend herself. Nothing had happened, after all.

* * *

Shrill ringing echoed around the metal bunker as operative HUNK from the Umbrella Security Service neatly wiped down the disassembled parts of his pistol. On his cot across the room, there lay a duffle bag and his other two weapons, cleaned and ready for use. Carefully setting the pieces aside, he reached across the table to pick up the landline.

A thick Russian accent immediately greeted his ears. "Hello, HUNK- or is it Mr. Death now, as the other operatives seem keen on calling you?"

He easily recognized the voice of Sergei Vladimir, captain of the guard and a high ranking executive in Umbrella. Leaning back against the steel chair, HUNK let the phone line stretch out across the table.

"It's HUNK." he replied, keeping his tone clipped. Nicknames were of no use to him.

Loud, throaty laughter blared from the line as Sergei apparently found humor in his words. After a few minutes the noise died down, but the man's voice was still light with amusement.

"Out of the whole Alpha team, only you survived against the mutated doctor, _and_ you managed to retrieve a G-virus sample. I'm impressed."

There was a pause in the man's speech, as if he expected HUNK to say something. The USS operative's lips thinned together. Silence stretched between them until Sergei finally decided to declare his intentions.

"It's because of your success that I've chosen you for this next assignment." Sergei paused to clear his throat, as his tone darkened. "I trust you've received the file?"

"I did," HUNK said as his eyes drifted to the large, manila envelope on the table.

"Good. I've been led to believe that my old comrade, Albert Wesker, has also gotten his hands on the G-virus. It'd be a shame if a new company suddenly thought it could compete with us. I'd visit him myself, but Lord Spencer has entrusted me with reviving Umbrella. Alas, our reunion will have to wait," the Russian said as he chuckled to himself. "We've assigned you to a new team for this objective, use them well. In the file you'll find a set of coordinates, locate Wesker's lab and retrieve his research notes. Destroy them if necessary."

The USS operative's reply was immediate, knowing exactly what was expected of him. "Understood."

Sergei voiced his approval before casually giving his final demand. "Oh, and one last thing. Wesker doesn't keep pointless company, kill anyone you find there."

_Click._

A dull drone rose from the line as HUNK considered the man's dramatic words. When it came to orders, this one seemed routine. He dropped the phone down onto the receiver and pulled the envelope closer to him. Tearing it open, he found a file containing the coordinates Sergei mentioned, a profile of information on Wesker, and a handful of photos. He spread the pictures out across the table to memorize the faces of his targets after he retrieved the pieces of his gun.

His hands moved from memory to reassemble the pistol while he studied the photographs. The first one was of his main target, Albert Wesker. The picture seemed to be taken from Umbrella's employee database as the man was dressed in a white lab coat with dark sunglasses, staring rigidly ahead. His posture and sharp features projected a sense of self-confidence, a man who knew how to handle himself.

Glancing away, HUNK clicked the last metal piece into place and keenly looked the weapon over before checking the rest of the photos. The next photo was an out of focus shot of Wesker as he stood on a curb, dressed in a suit, beside a redheaded woman. He studied her features for a moment, trying to figure out why he felt she looked so familiar. Frowning, he turned to the last photo, which contained the same women exiting a silver car with a blonde child, around the age of 11 or 12, and an older dark-haired man.

HUNK picked up the packet of papers and flipped through the profile. Most of the information was on Wesker's time working in Umbrella, extending out until about four months ago when he went rogue. Nothing in the information stated who the woman might be, nor the dark-haired man. It did, however, identify the child as William and Annette Birkin's daughter, Sherry.

The USS operative mulled over his thoughts, wondering why a traitorous ex-Umbrella employee would harbor a dead researcher's child. As a sentiment, perhaps, since it was stated the two had worked together? No, that didn't fit with the profile he was slowly building of the man.

His thoughts moved to the mission in Raccoon City, when his team was sent to raid Birkin's lab. The man had seemed focused to the point of obsession with his work on the G-virus, willing to infect himself to protect it. He imagined that his work probably affected his home life as well. There was a possibility the girl knew something about the late doctor's research.

Sliding everything back in the envelope, HUNK pushed back from the table and secured the pistol at his side. He was a hired gun. He didn't need to overthink the situation. Just stay aware enough to complete the mission and survive. With the envelope in hand, he moved across the room to his cot.

Opening the duffle bag on top, the USS operative loaded an SMG and shotgun first, followed by his ammo, smoke grenades, and explosives. He plucked the last item, a black gas mask, from its spot atop his pillow and packed it with the rest. Slinging the bag over his soldier, HUNK left the room, turning the light out behind him.

_Time to go meet his newest team._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Things are starting to move on all sides in the story! I've had some of the upcoming scenes planned out from the beginning, so I'm excited.  
> Beta'd by Twistanturnu :)


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